


no dialogue options

by mozaikmage



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anxiety, Female My Unit | Byleth, Gen, On Hiatus, POV First Person, Self-Insert, Swearing, Time Travel Fix-It, like canon except byleth is. litrally me, of a sort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-02-23 08:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 74,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23008279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozaikmage/pseuds/mozaikmage
Summary: In which the Author is somehow transported into the body of Byleth in the universe of Fire Emblem: Three Houses, and has to rely on game knowledge and a loose approximation of people skills to make it through the events.Also known as, "I just want Claude Fire Emblem to laugh at my jokes"
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth & Claude von Riegan
Comments: 178
Kudos: 368





	1. what the fuck

**Author's Note:**

> not betaed. I'm writing this to blow off steam and also because it amuses me. I hope it will amuse you also

I’m dreaming of the opening cutscene in Fire Emblem: Three Houses.

This is weird, I find myself thinking, I only saw that cutscene in full the first time I played the golden deer route back in November, and skipped it on my subsequent playthroughs. And yet, I’m watching Seiros/Rhea killing Nemesis in glorious high definition. Or like, the Disney live action remake version of Seiros killing Nemesis. Which is also weird. I don’t know if I like seeing the JRPG characters in such realistic rendering.

The cutscene fades, and I am standing in front of a green-haired girl on a throne.

“Oh my... What could have brought you here?” Sothis asks me.

“What?” I say, intelligently. Or maybe I think it. Sothis responds anyway, asking me to choose a form.

I point at the female Byleth automatically, because I always play as her. It feels like I’m still dreaming. 

“Hmm... I have not seen the likes of you before. Who are you, anyway?”

“I’m a mortal,” I say, remembering the correct response from the game.

If I’m aware that I’m dreaming, I should be able to do whatever I want, right? But when I try to make myself wake up, or think about something else, nothing happens. I’m a train on a predetermined track. It feels weird, weird, weird. A dream that’s more real than any dream I’ve ever had before, and it’s about a video game.

“I see. Then you must have a name of sorts. Go on.”

I look around for a keyboard or something so I can type my name in, but don’t see any. I shrug and smile at the goddess. 

“Byleth it is,” Sothis says — the first time she says anything I don’t remember hearing in the game.

I tell her my birthday and sit through the rest of the opening dialogue. This is a weird dream to have, I think, but any minute now my alarm will go off and I’ll get up and feed my cat, and continue on with my normal every day life.

“Hey. Time to wake up,” says a voice.

I open my eyes.

“Were you having that dream again?”

I blink at Jeralt, then look down and see I’m fully dressed in fem!Byleth’s sexy mercenary outfit. My whole body is thinner and more muscular, my hair is longer and bluer, my skin is clearer. There’s a mirror on a dresser in the corner of the room, and I go over to look at it.

“What the FUCK,” I whisper furiously.

“What’d you say, kid?”

“Uh...” Right, I don’t have time to think about all this now. If I did somehow become an isekai protagonist and get teleported into the world of a fucking video game, I should probably stick to the rules of the game as best as I can remember them for now. What were the dialogue options for the first conversation...

“I was dreaming about a girl...” I blurt out, sounding way too anxious to be in-character for Byleth. I’ve never been the best at acting, and especially not at improv. God, I’m doomed from the start here, aren’t I?

“You’ve described her to me before. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like that,” Jeralt says, like nothing’s amiss and this is a normal person way to say words. He gives me his spiel about mercenaries and the mission. “We’ll need to leave at dawn.”

I remembered the right answer here was “Of course,” so that’s what I say, half-expecting a support icon to pop up in my field of vision to confirm it. No such luck. The only indicator I have that I said something Jeralt likes is the corner of his mouth going up slightly, in a faint impression of a smile. 

No dialogue options or support trackers?? This isn’t a dream anymore, it’s a fucking nightmare!

A mercenary comes to get Jeralt, and we walk outside (apparently tactfully fading from one cutscene to the next is also a luxury not provided to me here) and meet the three house leaders.

I take back everything I said about this being a nightmare.

Edelgard is tiny, way shorter than my new body, with unrealistically shiny white hair and huge purple eyes. She has a determined set to her mouth that makes it easy to see, even now, the emperor she will become.

Dimitri’s tall and broad already, standing with perfect posture between Edelgard and Claude. He looks like he could be someone’s older brother, and he’s standing directly in front of me, so close I could reach out and touch his house leader cloak.

Claude... Claude was the first Lord I fell in love with, and every subsequent playthrough just made me regret not choosing him over and over again. To see him nod and wink at me, face to face, as he talks to Jeralt absolutely takes my breath away. Holy shit. Holy shit.

“Come on, let’s move,” Jeralt tells me eventually. “Hope you’re ready.”

“Of course I am,” I lie. I’m pretty sure game!Byleth only nodded at this, but I’ve always been too talkative for my own good.

As we walk to the battlefield, I’m thinking hard. The abstracted game mechanics I’m used to don’t apply here. There are no buttons to press, no dialogue to choose. Oh shit, what if I’m playing in Classic mode? What if I’m playing Classic/Maddening?? I DIED THREE TIMES ON THE LOWEST DIFFICULTY SETTING—

There’s a sword attached to my belt. It’s not shiny, so I assume it’s an Iron Sword. 40/40, all those other numbers I ignore because I don’t know what they mean. My friend Suyang, whose Switch I borrowed to play the game at all, is continually appalled at how bad I am at the actual gameplay of Three Houses when I play at her house. I’m not a gamer. The last video game I played before this was  _ OFF _ in 2014, and I set all of those battles to autoplay.

I pick up the sword with both hands. Looks like there’s no autoplaying this.

I see the three lords lined up in the clearing a bit ahead, and jog to catch up with them. Is this still turn-based combat? Do I still control their movements in battle? Is somebody going to tell me what to do??

I take a few steps forward. I remember in the game, Jeralt told the player character about how combat worked. Sure enough, he calls me back and tells me to take out the enemies in the front first. Which I already knew, so that’s useless.

“Do I just... swing my sword at them? Is that how this works?” I ask, keeping my voice down so the lords don’t overhear and lose respect for their future professor.

Jeralt looks at me like I’ve gone insane, which, I understand how it may seem like that. “You just fight them, kid. You know how to do that. Come on, no time to waste.”

“You’re overthinking this! Move!” Sothis whispers in my head. I jump, and almost drop my sword.

“That didn’t happen in the game,” I think back. 

“Do you see a controller anywhere? Stop thinking like you’re in a game, and think like you’re on a battlefield. Which you are! Fight!”

I turn to Claude, who smiles and rattles off his scripted line, “It’s because of you guys that I’m not dead right now. Thanks for that! I didn’t expect to run into mercenaries like you in some remote village. The gods of fortune must be smiling on me!”

He sounds so nice up close like this, I think, and smile at Claude as well. “Happy to help,” I say. Since I can’t choose dialogue options to raise support, I can at least try to say things that might, maybe, make people like me more? I hope?

I look at the bandit in front of me, and the sword in my hand.

Maybe this mercenary body knows what to do, even if my brain doesn’t. 

I try to swing it like in the attack animations I remember seeing, and as my arm goes up, my form suddenly changes, and my weight shifts to a position that I don’t remember ever doing but feels like I’ve done it a thousand times. The enemy falls.

“Impressive,” says Dimitri next to me, before running and stabbing another bandit with his lance. I guess that answers my question about controlling the allied units. 

Claude takes out a bandit by shooting his bow from behind a tree, Edelgard swings down her axe with a fancy spin I assume is her Combat Art, and we slowly advance up to where Kostas is standing. 

I hit a few more enemies, feeling myself grow stronger as I “level up”. I can feel the Crest of Flames in me, too, burning almost painfully as I swing at Kostas with all my might.

He falls, then gets to his feet and runs towards Edelgard.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Do I block it successfully, because I know how it’s going to go down already, or do I let myself take the hit so Sothis uses the Divine Pulse on me? 

That song from the first High School Musical movie about sticking to the stuff you know plays in my head as I dive in front of Edelgard. 

“Honestly! What are you accomplishing with that little stunt?! It’s like you’re trying to get me killed, you fool!” 

Sounds familiar, sounds expected. What isn’t familiar is what comes next.

“And you knew! I could hear you thinking it! You knew what was going to happen and you let us get killed anyway! And for what?”

“I wanted to see you turn back the hands of time,” I admit.

Sothis humphs. “You could’ve just asked, fool. No need to go out of your way to almost die to have me show you a magic trick. Very well, since there’s nothing else I can do to get out of this situation...”

The room swirls, and I’m back to the moment before Kostas stands up again. This time I run in front of Edelgard and block his hit with my sword somehow. 

“We will have a long talk about your unusual knowledge of future happenings,” Sothis adds, and then yawns. “When I’m not... so... sleepy...”

In the distance, the pale uniforms of the knights of Seiros appear over the horizon.

“Oh, thank fuck,” I mutter under my breath, half-expecting the battle endcard to show up telling me how many turns this took and who the MVP was, even if no other game mechanic has made itself known to me yet.

Dimitri is looking at me oddly. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised a mercenary uses such... strong language,” he comments. 

“I apologize for offending your delicate sensibilities,” I snap. “It’s been a very long day, as I’m sure you can understand.”

Dimitri nods stiffly. That... probably made my support go down with him. Whoops. On the other side of me, Claude stifles a laugh.

“Sorry,” I add, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“I understand, I didn’t mean to judge your vocabulary or anything of the sort,” Dimitri says, attempting a smile of his own. Ugh, now this is awkward. How did I ever get to A support with this dude at all?

Jeralt calls me over as he’s talking to Alois, who looks even more like a Dad(TM) than he did in the game. “Are you the captain’s child?”

“I’m a bandit,” I say, making finger guns with both hands as I did when meeting people in my old body.

“What are you doing,” Jeralt mutters. 

I remember guns do not exist in this universe yet. “Just... stretching my fingers after all that swordfighting,” I explain, taking the opportunity to do the actual hand stretches I learned in art school while Alois compliments my sense of humor and convinces Jeralt to take us both to the monastery.

The three house leaders surround me as I press my palms together in front of my chest.

“...What are you doing?” Edelgard asks.

“Hand stretches. They’re good for your wrists. Did you need something?” I pull the fingertips on my left hand back with my right and count backwards from thirty as Edelgard tells me about Jeralt. What were the dialogue options here...

“Captain of the knights of Seiros? He never told me anything about his time at the monastery.” That was definitely longer than whatever Byleth was supposed to say, but I say it anyway.

“How curious,” Edelgard murmurs, looking at me like a scientist examining a specimen.

It’s Claude’s turn to speak, so I break away from Edelgard’s gaze to focus on him. The voice in my head that is not Sothis is chanting “best boy” very softly. I’m sure Sothis is unimpressed, however. “You are coming with us to the monastery, right? Of course you are. I’d love to bend your ear as we travel. Oh, I should mention that the three of us are students of the Officers Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery. We were doing some training exercises when those bandits attacked. I definitely got the worst of it.”

“That would be because you ran off,” Edelgard adds.

The three of them bicker about their respective strengths and weaknesses and whose allegiance I am interested in. I don’t have the dialogue of the game perfectly memorized, but it feels like it’s all straight from the cutscene. Suyang would be pressing + right now, she always skips straight to the gameplay and ignores as much of the story as possible. I kind of want to press + too, if only because I already know these characters, know what they value and how they lead, and don’t need to watch them argue to learn more about them.

“So, capable stranger, let’s get right to it,” Claude says. “Where does your allegiance lie?”

I’m supposed to pick a country now, I know, but I don’t want to. Part of me hopes if I can build bonds with all three house leaders and their students, maybe then I can stop the war from happening. And I do want all of them to like me, because apparently my need to be liked by people transferred over from my previous life.

“I don’t think I know enough about Fodlan geopolitics to choose a nation to ally myself with, and I certainly have no ties to any of your homelands myself,” I say slowly. “But I do know that all three of you are capable, talented leaders and fighters, and I’d enjoy helping all of you grow.”

There’s a beat.

“But who’s your favorite?” All three of them ask in unison.

I can’t help but laugh, and after a moment, Edelgard, Dimitri and Claude all join in. 

We start heading back to the monastery. In my head, a tiny goddess bangs her fist.

“I’m wide awake and demand explanations!”

Welp.

I need a confidant. I’ve never been good at keeping everything to myself alone. I have a best friend I tell everything to, and I ask my various groups of friends for advice on most major decisions. To be trapped here in this other world without anyone from my own support system feels profoundly isolating.

So I figure, as Sothis is going to be reading my extremely un-Fodlanish thoughts, she deserves to know why they’re like that at all. So I tell her.

“But this is impossible! From another world?! Really! And you say you know what will happen in the future?”

_ Yeah, dude. Literally what I just said.  _

“And your manner of speaking is so odd as well! But that makes sense if you’re not from here, huh... You’ve given me much to think about. I shall call on you again once I have done so.”

_ Do you want me to think of a soothing song for you to help you nap? _

“It’s the least you can do,” Sothis sniffs, curling up on her throne. The only lullaby I can think of is a Russian song my mom sang to me when I was a kid, so that’s what I think about in the back of my head as we walk. 

"I don't understand this, but it sounds nice. Another," says the most demanding brain-freeloader goddess I've ever met. At least the songs stuck in my head until the end of time are entertaining to someone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 (in which I ignore all actual time cues for this chapter in the game to suit my purposes)  
> cw: vague description of an anxiety attack! sorry  
> still unbetaed. \shrug/

The walk is a lot longer than it seemed in the game. Which means it’s an opportunity to talk to the lords and get to know them better, a thing I am determined to do at all costs.

“So, noblekids,” I say, addressing all three of them at once, “have you read any good books lately?”

“I confess I haven’t had the time to read much recently, but I enjoyed books about knights and tales of chivalry as a child,” Dimitri offers.

“Classic,” I nod. “Very respectable.” Dimitri seems pleased at this, which is a relief.

Claude, meanwhile, lights up. “I read a book about poisonous mushrooms last week. They discovered a new kind recently. When you eat it, your body releases a mysterious steam!”

“That’s a— impressive,” I tell him. I feel like people don’t say “awesome” or “cool” here, and I don’t want to sound like a complete weirdo if I can manage it. “What about you, Edelgard?”

“I read a fascinating treatise on the theory of monarchy and government.”

Right, wasn’t one of her favorite gifts the monarchic studies book? That tracks. “Planning for the future?”

“Always.” Edelgard smiles, but it doesn’t seem very friendly.

I continue prodding them into making small talk with me as we go. “What do you think of the monastery? Do you like it there?”

“I enjoy the opportunity to meet and train with such a variety of people from different backgrounds,” Dimitri says earnestly. 

I remember a meme I saw of him saying “good morning my friends of color” and try very hard to keep a straight face. Which is easier than expected, since apparently this body’s face is naturally less visibly expressive than what I’m used to.

“I’d be happy to show you around,” Dimitri continues.

“It really is Fodlan in a nutshell,” Claude adds. “The good and the bad.”

“What do you mean by that?” I ask, tilting my head to one side. 

“The way people are treated based on who their family is, or where they’re from, or whether or not they have a crest...” Claude shrugs. “You’ll see what I mean.”

"Like it or not, we’ll be there soon enough,” Edelgard finishes. 

The trees give way to a hill topped with the hauntingly familiar spires of the Garreg Mach monastery. Without thinking, I stick my hand in my pocket for my cell phone to snap a pic, only to find nothing there. Because of course I don’t have a phone in fucking 1100s Fantasyland. I stare up at the hill, the stone walls glowing from the late afternoon sun, and try to commit the image to memory, since I can’t do anything else.

I may never see Twitter again. A blessing and a curse. 

“Wow,” I breathe. “It’s beautiful.”

“It really is!” Alois agrees. I had forgotten he was even there. He leads me and Jeralt to Rhea’s audience chambers.

Rhea’s Archbishop Regalia is even more elaborate in real life, with intricate jewelry and a heavy-looking headdress. I bow deeply. “Lady Rhea.”

“So you have heard of me,” Rhea says, pleased. Jeralt is giving me a weird look. Fuck.

“The three house leaders told me about the monastery and the Church of Seiros on our trip over here,” I say. It’s not a complete lie, but I did learn more about the Church from the Fire Emblem Wiki than from the teenagers, who I kept asking about things like hobbies and favorite foods (so I’d know what kind of gifts to get them later.)

Rhea and Seteth tell me about being a professor, blah blah, Jeralt apologizes for dragging me into this with him, and then Manuela and Hanneman show up.

“So young...” Manuela comments.

I remember Byleth is 21, which coincidentally is also how old I was before I got isekai’d into Byleth’s body. I've taught middle schoolers before, but never fighting. I don't have the faintest idea how to use a lance or a bow. I guess I'll figure it out.

“Competence and age are not necessarily correlated, as you well know,” Hanneman interrupts. “I am Hanneman, a Crest scholar and professor at the Officers Academy. I wonder if you bear a Crest of your own. When next you have a moment to spare, I insist that you pay me a visit so we can delve into the subject further.”

“I’ll stop by your research laboratory when I get the chance,” I promise Hannemann, bowing my head in a show of respect. He seems gratified by that at least.

“I’m Manuela. I’m a professor, a physician, a songstress, and available. It’s nice to meet you.”

I wonder if I can impress Manuela with my Prior Knowledge. 

“You were with the Mittelfrank Opera Company, right? I’ve heard of you.”

Manuela gasps, pleased. “Of course you’ve heard of me, I was world renowned in those days! Do stop by if you ever want a private performance.”

Score. That’s gotta have been worth at least 3 support boosts. I feel very proud of myself.

“I’ve gotten the chance to talk to the house leaders on my way here, so I know a bit about each house already, but any guidance from either of you would be most appreciated.” I remember reading somewhere that asking people for favors and sharing knowledge makes them like you more, so even though I feel like I know all I need to know about the three houses already I want to hear it from the professors themselves. They might have something interesting to add, who knows.

“Well, if you really don’t know, I’ll do you a favor and tell you. The officer’s academy is comprised of three houses of students...”

Rhea encourages me to go run around and talk to everyone before I make any decisions, so I oblige. Or, I would, except the minimap I relied on so heavily in the game version does not exist and my own real-life sense of direction is laughable. Everything feels different from a first-person point of view, when instead of textured computer models I’m surrounded by what looks like real people and real stone walls. I spot a flash of red in the adjacent hall (the Reception Hall, maybe?) and make a beeline towards Edelgard.

She introduces herself and asks if I’d like to know more about any of the Black Eagles.

“Actually,” I explain, slightly embarrassed, “I haven’t managed to meet any of them yet. I have no idea where to go and I would really appreciate it if you could walk me to the classrooms so I don’t accidentally wander somewhere I shouldn’t. Please?”

Edelgard chuckles. I groan. “I’m making a terrible first impression as a professor here, aren’t I?” Which makes her laugh more. It’s a nice sound, but also a little embarrassing. I wanted Edelgard to think I was cool and impressive, dammit!

“Not at all! You’re new here, it’s only natural that you haven’t quite got the hang of things yet,” she tells me. “Follow me.”

I try my best to pay attention to where Edelgard is leading me and which doors we’re going through. There are a lot of NPCs around — but I feel bad thinking about them as NPCs now, since they look just like normal people except maybe a bit plainer than the characters I’m more familiar with. Edelgard walks quickly, almost power-walking. Maybe because she’s so short, she’s used to walking faster to keep pace with Hubert and her other tall friends? She stops at the edge of the lawn in front of the Officer’s Academy. 

“Black Eagles are in that building, Blue Lions are next door, Golden Deer at the end of the row. You’ll have to ask Claude and Dimitri if you want to know more about their houses, but I can wait here until you’re done talking to the Eagles, if you’d like.” Edelgard leans against a column with feigned nonchalance. She likes being an expert on her house, I think, and wants me to ask.

So I nod. “Thank you very much for your kindness,” I add, bowing. “Even if this is just a ploy to get me to lead your house.”

Edelgard huffs, face turning pink. “It’s not a ploy, I was genuinely—” I smile a bit wider and raise my eyebrows. “Oh. You’re... teasing me. Alright, then.”

Teasing might not have been the best approach with Edelgard, I reflect, but it was kind of funny so I’m happy with it. I walk into the Black Eagles (or, Beagles, as my friends liked to call it) classroom. 

I feel a bit like I’m at the character meet and greet in Disney World. Or, more realistically, a cosplay meetup at a convention. But Caspar’s hair is too vivid to be hairdye, and Petra’s braids are more elaborate than a game rendering could hope to capture. They’re all standing around and talking amongst themselves, turning around curiously when the door opens before going back to whatever it is they were doing. 

I head straight towards Bernadetta and Ferdinand, because I know what I’m about. It is very surreal to hear familiar dialogue and familiar voices come straight out of real life mouths. But mostly I am squealing internally like a child meeting Cinderella at her castle for the first time. It’s Bernie and Ferdie! In front of my face! Like, right there!

“Calm down!” Sothis tells me. “You’re supposed to be a professor!”

_ If you don’t stop yelling at me I’ll think of a really annoying song and have it play on loop in my brainspace forever,  _ I think back at her. She sticks her tongue out at me. Fine, then, Renai Circulation 10 hour loop it is. 

“It’s okay, I don’t bite!” I tell Bernie, hoping I seem friendly despite the fact that I am a stranger and speaking. “And I’m pleased to make your acquaintance as well.”

I talk to everyone in the room, feeling alternately unsettled and charmed by the experience. Not having dialogue buttons is inconvenient, though, especially when I go up to Dorothea.

I recruited and S-supported her on my first run, on account of being a lesbian. But like, if she’s a person, and I’m a person... I’ll have to learn how to flirt with girls. And, well, all my Tinder matches ghosted on me, so I can’t say I’m any good at that.

Maybe I’ll die before the five-year-time-skip and it’ll be a non-issue. At any rate, I can’t flirt with my students if I’m teaching them, so this is really a problem for future Byleth.

“Before I joined the academy, I was a member of an opera company in the Empire. You should hear me sing sometime,” Dorothea says, smiling politely.

I look her in the eyes and say, feeling extremely out of place, “I would love to! And I like your hat, it’s adorable.” That seemed normal to me. That’s how I talked to everyone, in the normal world. It’s out of character for who Byleth was, but it feels right to me, to talk like this.

Dorothea’s polite smile warms into something a little more real and she says, “Thank you,” in a tone that reminds me of Hilda.

Speaking of Hilda...

“It was lovely meeting you all,” I shout from the door. “I’m looking forward to this school year!”

“Yeah, nice to meet you too!” Caspar yells back. What a guy.

I step back outside and take a few steps over to the Golden Deer classroom, where I am greeted by much of the same. I refrain from patting Lysithea on the head and instead ask her for book recommendations, which makes her light up. Support points raised, I hope. The Golden Deer house was the first house I led, and I have a special fondness for them all because they’ve been with me the longest. 

Hilda and Marianne are just the cutest, and Leonie was my most reliable fighter on all three runs despite her weird Jeralt stan thing. I tell Hilda I like her earrings and Leonie that I look forward to training with her, and leave Marianne be for now. I’ve made friends with shy people before, and I know that ambushing them with conversation usually isn’t the best strategy. 

When I walk into the Blue Lions room, Sylvain steps out from behind the door like he’d been waiting for me all along. Oh dear. “Well, well! It must be my lucky day today, being approached by such a beauty. I'm Sylvain Jose Gautier. Feel free to say hi whenever you like.”

A knot of anxiety rises in my throat, an instinctive reaction to being approached like this by a man I don’t know. Even though I’ve hit A support with Sylvain three times, and grown to appreciate him as an interesting character, his first impression is still godawful. I take a deep breath to calm myself. I want to set him on fire, but I’ll do the responsible thing and set a boundary instead. “Please don’t flirt with me, I know you don’t mean anything by it but it makes me uncomfortable due to past experiences.”

He steps back instantly. “Gotcha, my mistake. I look forward to getting to know you better regardless.”

I nod, still feeling sick to my stomach. Ingrid marches up to Sylvain, Felix in tow. “Honestly, Sylvain, couldn’t you see you were bothering her with your advances?”

“It’s fine, really, I didn’t mean to make a big deal or anything... “ Oh my god, I’m the worst Byleth. It’s me. Why couldn’t I just blink passively in silence at everything that comes out of his mouth? Why did I have to react to it? This is terrible. I interrupted a conversation, I can never set foot in the Blue Lions house again. Sorry Dimitri, if we get to the war phase here you’re on your own.

“Ingrid’s just looking for an excuse to get on my case about girls again,” Sylvain sighs, rolling his eyes at her. “That’s Ingrid, by the way. And behind her is our good buddy Felix. Say hi, Felix!”

“Fuck off, Sylvain,” Felix says, then turns to me. “You’re that mercenary who saved the boar prince, right? I look forward to sparring with you, and beating you.”

“That’s me. You’re on.” My hands do the finger-guns thing before I can stop them. Fuck, I’m a modern meme disaster of a person. I press my fingertips against each other and turn the motion into a hand stretch. My heart is still racing and my brain can’t stop overthinking everything I’m doing and saying here. This is terrible, I am terrible, why am I here in the first place?

Sothis flicks me in the forehead. “Why won’t you learn! Just stay calm and talk to everybody. Go over there and say hi. And change your brain song, I’m sick of whatever this thing is.”

_ Can’t, it’s a 10-hour loop,  _ I think back, still annoyed, then come up to Mercedes and Annette. 

Mercedes takes one look at me and says, smiling kindly, “Are you alright? You seem overwhelmed. Are you new to the monastery?”

“Oh, Mercie! Do you think this is that mercenary people have been talking about?” Annette peers at me with wide eyes, and despite her adorable nature the thought of people looking at me makes me shy away further. There’s a reason I instantly gravitated towards Bernadetta.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” I manage, after they both introduce themselves. “And I am a bit overwhelmed, yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“You’re doing fine,” Mercedes says. I remember an AU fic I read once where she was a kindergarten teacher. I can hear it in her voice, the kindergarten teacherness. If gold star stickers existed in this universe she’d probably give me one now.

“Thank you,” I say.

I talk to Dedue and Ashe, who is just as sweet and earnest as I remember him being, and go back to find Edelgard. She’s still standing, but I sit down on the grass in front of her, prompting her to sit down with me.

“Sitting on the grass is unladylike,” Edelgard informs me, smoothing her House Leader cape down on the grass like a picnic blanket.

“I’m not a lady, I’m a mercenary,” I reply. “So, give me the rundown on the Beagles.”

“Give you the what on the  _ what _ ?”

“Uh. I meant, tell me more about everyone in the Black Eagles house.” I’m going to have to invent markers and then use one to write NO MEMES OR SLANG on my hand so I stop forgetting. “Starting with yourself.”

“Me?” Edelgard pulls a few grass blades out of the ground, absentmindedly. “Well...some think I'm a bit distant. Arrogant, even. But there's little to be done. One day, I must rise to become Adrestia's next emperor. What else...” She shakes her head. “Never mind. So, Hubert...”

I let her talk about her classmates, admiring how fond she seems of all of them. She really does care about her people, I think.

“Thank you for taking the time to tell me all of this,” I say. “And for sitting on the grass, despite how unladylike it is.”

She tilts her head and looks at me, consideringly. “You’re not at all what I expected you to be,” Edelgard says finally. “But...” 

And with that enigmatic ellipsis, the princess of Adrestia jumps up and power-walks away.

“The fuck was that supposed to mean?” I mutter. Oh well, time to hunt down the other house leaders.

Claude appears on a walkway behind the Officer’s Academy buildings. I wave frantically at him.

“Claude! Hi! Tell me about your house! And yourself!” I blurt out, stopping short in front of the boy. “I’m supposed to choose a house to lead for the year but I want to make an informed decision,” I add in a slightly more refined manner.

He laughs. The sound is music to my ears. “Well aren’t you enthusastic! Congrats on the teaching gig. You must’ve made a hell of a first impression on the Archbishop. I'd better introduce myself properly. I'm Claude von Riegan. I'm from the ruling house of the Leicester Alliance, but don't worry too much about all that madness. I bet you'd like our house. We're not as...difficult as the other two.”

“What are your thoughts on your housemates?” I prompt.

What the house leader’s descriptions of their classmates really give me is a good impression of how the leaders think of everyone. Claude riles up Lysithea on purpose, Edelgard finds Ferdinand irritating. All of that is important to know.

“Thanks so much!” I say, when Claude finishes. “I just have to talk to Dimitri really quick and then— have you eaten yet? Do you want to grab a meal with me? And maybe Dimitri too. I want to get to know you all better.”

“It would be a pleasure.”

“Actually, do you know where Dimitri might be? I’m still finding my way around...”

Claude nods. “Saw him on my way over here. I can take you to him. Let me guess, you want to hear what he thinks about the Blue Lions?”

“Got it in one,” I agree. “I did get to meet them all, but I want to hear Dimitri’s perspective on his friends and allies, and how he sees people despite being a prince himself.”

“I see. That makes sense.” Claude nods, then smirks. “Did Sylvain hit on you? Don’t take it too personally, he does that to everyone. Not that you aren’t a lovely young lady.”

“I’m aware,” I say, wincing in spite of myself. “But... thank you.” Being reminded of that brings back the embarrassment and anxiety I felt when it happened, and when Claude and I finally find Dimitri outside the student dorms, my stomach is in knots and I’m not sure I want to eat anything after all.

“Have you heard of meditation? Taking deep breaths? That might be a good idea,” Sothis tells me.

_ Please don’t talk to me when I’m in public so I look slightly less weird, I am extremely not capable of having two different discussions at once, _ I think back at her, and then try to think of a different song to replace Renai Circulation which I had admittedly also gotten sick of having in my head. 

“Hello, Claude, Byleth!” Dimitri calls. 

“Heyo. The new professor wants to talk to you, Your Princeliness.” Claude bows. “Would you care to join us for a meal afterwards?”

“I’d be delighted,” Dimitri says, flushing slightly at the attention. “Oh, and please accept my apologies for the other day. You came to our aid, yet I hadn't even the courtesy to properly introduce myself. And commented on your language!”

“I’m gonna go ahead to the dining hall, give you some privacy.” Claude winks and walks off, leaving me alone with Dimitri. I don’t know if I should feel grateful or not.

“It is seriously completely fine, my d- your Highness.” I just almost called a prince “my dude.” Jesus fucking Christ.

... I feel like I’m going to accidentally say “Jesus Christ” instead of “Goddess” and have to answer a whole lot of questions.

“Please, call me Dimitri.” Dimitri tells me about the Blue Lions, giving me no information I did not already know, but it’s nice to see how much he cares for his friends. I will feel moderately guilty for recruiting as many of them as I possibly can.

“What do you think would be the most challenging thing about leading your house?” I ask him. I sound like I’m interviewing him for something. I also wish I’d thought to ask Claude and Edelgard about that earlier.

Dimitri rubs his chin, frowning thoughtfully. “What an interesting question, professor! I think... perhaps getting everyone to stay on task? The Blue Lions are a very motivated group, but we definitely have different goals and interests, and it might be difficult to get... certain people to focus.”

“You can say Sylvain, it’s okay.”

“Sylvain is a very capable and intelligent person! But... you understand what I mean.” Dimitri looks away. “Shall we depart?”

“We shall.”

We grab Claude and walk to the dining hall, where I spot Edelgard in line for... something that smells like fish.

This should be fun. Byleth can and will eat anything, but I’m a picky eater, and I cannot stand the taste of fish. I don’t mind some types of seafood, but I never ate fish if I could help it back home. Now, stuck at a monastery with a fishing pond and a menu half-composed of fish-based meals, either Byleth’s taste buds are going to overrule mine, or I have to teach myself to like new things.

I get in line behind Edelgard and Hubert and wave cheerfully. “Edelgard, Edelgard! Sit with us! I want to talk to all three of you some more before I have to make up my mind.”

Edelgard looks at me. Looks at Hubert, who is expressing Maximum Disapproval at my insistence on interacting with Edelgard. Looks at Claude and Dimitri, who both pretend to not be paying attention to this conversation with varying degrees of success.

“Why not,” she sighs. She collects her plate of fried fish things from the chef. “I’ll get a table.” 

I receive my plate and turn to the other two house leaders while they wait in line. “Are you three, like, not friends? Is it because of the whole rival houses and geographic allegiances thing? Or personal reasons?” I can hear myself speaking in a manner wholly unsuited to my present situation, but I can’t stop myself. I need to practice using less slang and filler words...

“Yes,” Claude says, seemingly ignoring how weird I talk. “Mostly the rival thing, I would say. Everyone at the Officer’s Academy is keenly aware of how their pasts determine their inevitable futures.”

Dimtri coughs. “Some of the tension is due to personal reasons as well.”

Oh yeah, he and Edelgard are stepsiblings, I remember that. “Like Claude’s tendency to tease?”

Dimitri coughs louder, turning slightly pink. 

“Hey!” Claude says. “It’s tactics! Get them off guard and go in for the kill.”

“If you say so,” I singsong. 

Edelgard has claimed a table in the back, near a window with a nice view of the setting sun. I sit down opposite her, and Claude and Dimitri sit down on either side of me. 

“So...” I poke at the fish tentatively. “How was everyone’s day? What was the highest point of your day, and what was the lowest point?” I sound like a camp counselor, but I need them all to bond! Mostly I need Edelgard to realize she doesn’t have to violently take over the continent to reform the current social hierarchy. That, if she wants, Claude and Dimitri could be her allies.

The house leaders exchange a look. I get the feeling they don’t get questions like that very often. I try the fish and feel relieved — it’s not my favorite food in the world, but I don’t want to spit it out immediately. Maybe my tastes and Byleth’s tastes averaged out somehow. 

“The high point, of course, was learning that you are to be a professor here,” Dimitri ends up saying first. “And the lowest point... I broke a lance in training today, and it was almost brand new too. I misjudged my own strength again...”

“That’s never fun. I hope you can replace or repair it soon,” I offer. “Anyone else?”

Claude and Edelgard chew silently, watching each other with narrowed eyes. 

“Well, the highest point of my day was also getting to spend time with you again, professor,” Edelgard finally says. “I found sitting on the grass with you to be a delightfully unusual experience. And the lowest point was having to drag Bernadetta out of her room for the house meeting.”

_ “You sat on the grass with her?” _ Claude and Dimitri both hiss at the same time.

“I got tired of standing,” I explain. “Claude, your turn.”

“I was trying to think of a good lowest point to share,” Claude admits. “High point, you already know what I would say, we’re all aiming for the same thing here. Lowest point, I went to the library to find a book after breakfast, only to learn that Linhardt checked out the only copy.”

It occurs to me that I might have accidentally encouraged the three of them to compete for my house leadering. Whoops.

The icebreaker serves its purpose, though, and the rest of the meal passes in light, mostly-friendly conversation about training weapons and books and dealing with shy people. It also serves to change the subject away from me, so I don’t have to answer any questions about my nonexistent mercenary past or why my personality is nothing like what the rumors about me implied.

_ What do you think?  _ I ask Sothis, as a peace offering to make up for earlier.

“Your memories tell me there’s more than meets the eye to these children, but as of right now? I think they’re all trying too hard to impress you.”

I stuff a piece of fish in my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

The three house leaders lead me back to Rhea’s audience chambers, where most of the named adults in the game are already waiting for me. They don’t make it past the threshold, though, Edelgard explaining Rhea doesn’t like visitors unless she called for them. 

“We were expecting you earlier,” Rhea says, smiling in a way that I would not describe as kind or benevolent at all. 

Seteth mutters something about how this shows I am unreliable and unfit for the position, but I ignore him.

“My apologies.” I bow. “I thought it wise to break bread with the leaders of each house, so I could learn more about what they value and how they would like to be taught. Also, you did not specify a time for me to return.”

She seems slightly gratified by this. “So, do you feel as though you can make an informed decision now?”

On the one hand, leading the Black Eagles would let me get closer to Edelgard, and maybe help solve the war problem that way. It’s also the route I played most recently, so I have the clearest memory of how things are supposed to unfold with them. On the other hand, leading the Blue Lions would mean the early missions with Lord Lonato and Miklan would have emotional weight to them (and also, trauma I would have to help the kids manage.) 

On the other other hand, I like Claude.

“I would like to lead the Golden Deer, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Your heart has made its choice, then. All I ask is that you guide these open minds with virtue, care, and sincerity.”

I meet Flayn briefly, and, as it’s getting late, am told I’ll meet the students in my class tomorrow. Which sounds great to me, I don’t think I could handle any more interaction with fictional characters who are now people. I find my way back to my Personal Quarters and open the door to find Jeralt sitting at my desk.

“Oh. Hi,” I say. I sit down on the bed. Kill Bill sirens are going off in my head, and I can hear Sothis whispering “Ooooooo” like an elementary school class when someone has to go to the principal’s office.

“Welcome back, kid.” Jeralt turns his chair around to face me. “Let’s talk.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there is a tea party

“Let’s talk,” says Jeralt.

“What about?” I say, trying my hardest to keep a blank face. I am definitely worse at keeping a blank face than the original Byleth was. Jeralt figured it out, because, of course he did, he’s her dad.

I don’t have a lot of experience with dads, if I’m being honest. My father went back to Russia when I was five, and I was never close with my stepfather even before the second divorce. Interacting with Byleth’s Dad, while knowing I am not Byleth and pretending to be Byleth, is not something I feel confident in my ability to pull off.

“How are you settling in?” Jeralt says, instead of, “I have figured out your secret, you sham of a Byleth-impersonator, and will now make you pay for your identity thieving ways.”

“Oh. Um. I’m doing well. The food is good,” I say, hoping I sound Byleth-like.

Now that I think about it, what happened to the original Byleth’s mind when I got stuck in her body? Sothis, any thoughts?

“That’s an intriguing question. I will have to ponder it.” Sothis yawns. I think of a song to help her sleep through this conversation.

“I’ve noticed you seem... very enthusiastic about being here. You’re smiling more than I’ve ever seen you smile before.” Jeralt rubs his chin. “I wasn’t sure about coming back to the monastery, but if you’re enjoying it, it can’t be that bad of a choice.”

“It’s... peaceful,” I offer. “I am enjoying myself. Thank you, father.”

Jeralt stands up with a grunt, stretching his legs like he wants to complain about his knees. “Have a good night, kid. You have another long day ahead of you tomorrow.”

“Good night, father.” He closes the door behind him, and I fall back on the bed, finally relaxed.

Now that I think about it, in the game, Solon-impersonating-Tomas and Kronya-impersonating-Monika didn’t get caught at all until after they’d done their evil deeds. Maybe I didn’t have anything to worry about from Jeralt after all. Unless I’d accidentally killed the real Byleth, in which case, he would probably kill me too.

“You done pondering that question yet, Sothis?” I ask quietly. 

Sothis just snores. She’s floating in midair over my desk, head resting on her arms. I feel compelled to put a blanket over her or something, except the blanket would just fall right through.

I start figuring out how to get ready for bed in this world; thankfully, toothbrushes do exist, but instead of toothpaste they use a powder thing, apparently. I miss being able to talk to my friends, I miss having an infinite collection of things to read and watch and listen to at my fingertips. I wonder if anyone’s noticed I haven’t been online. I wonder if time here passes differently than back home. 

The song I started thinking about for Sothis got stuck in my head for real, so I hum quietly as I figure out where the servants put Byleth’s stuff and how to get out of this weird corset-armor deal she has going on. Turns out there’s fasteners on the sides. Wild.

I fall asleep faster than I ever did in my old life. 

And in the morning, I meet the students. Properly, this time.

“Wait, what?! Are you  _ really _ our new homeroom professor?” Hilda demands.

I curl my hands into fists at my sides to keep myself from making any unnecessary gestures. “Yup!”

“Is that true?” Ignatz cuts in. “You aren't quite what I pictured. Oh, sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded.”

“Don't tell me, you chose this class just to get to know me better, right? I'm flattered, really.” Claude chuckles. “Whoops. Now that you're our professor, maybe I should choose my words more carefully.”

“I don’t care about formalities,” I say. “You can swear if you want.”

“Hell yeah,” Lysithea says, only to immediately flush as everyone in the room turned to stare at her. 

Honestly, this whole adventure was worth it just to hear that. Maybe by the end of my time here I can get her to say “fuck.”

“Lysithea, there’s a difference between being informal and being vulgar,” Lorenz scolds. She crosses her arms and turns away from him with a “hmph.”

The rest of the conversation seems to go down the same way it did in the game, as far as I remember. It’s been a while since I played the Golden Deer Route. Claude says I have skills, Leonie brings up Jeralt, everyone’s chattering excitedly. When Lorenz suggests a conversation over tea I interrupt Raphael to say, “That sounds great, I adore tea.”

This is true. At home I went through about 7 cups of tea on any given day, a habit picked up from my mother and grandfather. Russians usually drink tea with sweets directly after a meal, but I have a cup next to my computer all day long, constantly refilling it from my electric kettle, and occasionally spilling it all over the table. I remember in the game it took a few chapters to unlock the tea party mechanic, but I want to try and fast-forward that by getting Lorenz to give me tea stuff now. I doubt Byleth’s body has a caffeine dependency, but I need tea, emotionally. Maybe tea will help me feel more at home in this body.

“Professor, come on, it’s not a real party without meat!” Raphael interjects.

“I like meat too, but it’s such a nice day today, a tea party in the garden would be absolutely lovely,” I say, trying to smile. “Maybe we can have some sweets to go with it?” I glance at Lysithea, who perks up at the mention of sweets.

“Your common sensibilities are grating to my noble ears, Raphael. Please quiet yourself.” Lorenz smiles at me. “I would be more than willing to procure high quality leaves.”

“Please do so, then.” I nod, and Lorenz walks out in what he probably thinks is a noble and dignified manner. 

“I can get the sweets!” Lysithea yells, running out after him. The rest of the Golden Deer seem to take this as a cue that the meeting has been adjourned, and spill out into the rest of the monastery.

Claude is watching me. “You seem calm.”

“I met them all yesterday, remember? I knew what to expect.”

“We’re a rowdy bunch. You'll find nobles and commoners alike here-- those who are dedicated to their studies alongside slackers. But hey, that just makes your life more exciting, right? I really hope you're looking forward to the year ahead as much as I am.”

I smile at him. “I really am. Now let’s go have tea.”

We push several of the tables in the garden together to accomodate all nine of us. I let Lorenz teach me how to brew the perfect cup, even though I know how to do that already, and commend Lysithea on her choice of desserts. Marianne sits in the corner furthest away from me, next to Hilda. I try not to feel offended by that. 

Lorenz has poured Leicester Cortania for everyone, which I think was the most expensive tea in the game. It certainly tastes like a very fancy black tea. “Professor, what’s your favorite kind of tea?” Ignatz asks.

The real answer is milk oolong (a variety of oolong that tastes somewhat milky), but they do not have anything called oolong in Fodlan. “Crescent Moon tea?” I think it was described as having a light and subtle flavor, so it’s probably the closest to my preference. “I also like bergamot, and mint. I don’t really like fruit or herbal teas as much.”

“You have more refined taste than I would expect from a mercenary,” Lorenz comments. I bravely resist the urge to roll my eyes at him. “But since you seem to appreciate the beauty of a cup of tea, I will graciously allow you to borrow my tea set if you need it in the future.”

Fucking  _ score.  _ “I would be very grateful.”

“You’re getting distracted,” Sothis suddenly pops up in my head again. “You have a mock battle with these students coming up soon, don’t you? You need them to listen to you about matters more serious than tea!”

_ But I like tea. _

Sothis punches me in the arm, which has no effect on me whatsoever, and Leonie asks me to tell a story about Jeralt in battle.

God, I am so fucking bad at improv, I think, as I frantically rack my brain for something, anything I’ve read in a book or seen in a movie I could crib from to entertain these kids. The only thing coming up is that Monty Python bit with the Black Knight, which does not help. “What good is thinking about the past, when we should be focusing on the mock battle in our future?”

“The professor’s right,” Lysithea adds, “we have to study hard so we can do our best!”

“How about  _ you  _ do your best, and I sit on the sidelines and cheer you all on?” Hilda suggests, winking at me.

“You’re participating.” I already know who I’m putting on the field for the mock battle: Claude, Hilda, Marianne, Lysithea, Leonie. 

“Why me?” Hilda pouts. “Surely there’s someone else who would be way more useful on the field.”

“It’s your fault for complaining,” Claude says in a stage whisper. “Saying you don’t want to do it only made Teach want to put you in more. It’s reverse psychology.”

“Exactly.” I nod. I kind of wish this school had a house points system so I could give people rewards for saying things I liked. Or like, fantasy Skittles. I had a teacher when I was a kid who’d give people Skittles for getting the right answer in class. 

Anyway. “What’s everyone looking forward to learning the most?” I ask, like I don’t know exactly what their strengths and weaknesses are already. I hope that makes me sound more like a professor to them and less like a 21 year old with an unhealthy attachment to tea.

“Reason,” Lysithea says immediately.

“I want to be just like Jeralt, so lance and riding,” Leonie adds.

“I enjoy archery,” Ignatz contributes. 

The conversation shifts to a discussion of teaching style and how they prefer to learn things, which, even if I don’t know much about archery with my conscious brain, I do know a decent amount about teaching. Maybe if I stand in front of the classroom Byleth’s knowledge will just flow out of my mouth. Maybe Byleth’s definitely not dead spirit can possess me. Or something. 

I’ll figure it out, probably.

After the tea party is over and the dishes returned to the dining hall, I ask Claude to give me a proper tour of the facilities. “I feel like I got half of a tour yesterday, but I still don’t really know where anything is? Do you have a map?”

Claude just grins and motions for me to follow him through a cloister, so I do. “I can absolutely get you a map. But first, Rhea asked for you. She’s probably going to give you your exorbitantly high teacher’s salary or something. I can take you there and then show you around after?” 

“Is the teacher’s salary really that high?” I remember I’d always end up with hundreds of thousands of gold pieces I didn’t know what to do with at the end of each route. I’ve never been a big spender in the game or in real life. 

“It’s... decent... Although I don’t think most students here really understand the value of a gold piece, except maybe Leonie. Nobles,” Claude says dismissively, striding towards a staircase I can’t recall ever noticing.

“You’re a noble,” I point out.

“Never said I understood the value of a gold piece either.” He turns back to smile at me, his yellow house leader cloak swirling around with him, and then takes the stairs up two at a time.

Rhea does give me my salary for the month (a big sack of gold coins. It’s heavy as shit) and tell me more about my duties and weekend activities I have the option of doing, as a professor. I assume eating ten straight meals with different pairs of students wouldn’t work out as well as it did in the video game. Instead of gradually revealing things like the training facility and the sauna to me as the months went by, Rhea just tells me about everything now. Which makes more sense, I guess.

“Claude can answer any further questions you may have about life at the monastery,” Rhea concludes, gently shooing us both out the door.

I carry my sack of gold coins in both arms, feeling a bit like Scrooge McDuck. “I’m sorry I keep dragging you around, but can we please drop this off in my room and then go explore?”

Claude looks at me like I’m missing something incredibly obvious. “Just put the bag in your pocket, Teach.”

“What pocket?” I’m wearing leather shorts over lace tights and a metal corset top thing, and the pockets on these shorts could hold one coin at best.

“Any? Just try it.”

“If you say so,” I shove one hand into the left shorts pocket to open it, and gently lower the Money Sack with my right. There’s a slight sucking noise, and the bag drops right into the opening. I don’t hear it hit any kind of bottom. When I take my hand out, the pocket appears just as empty and glued to my hip as it was before. “ _ Huh. _ ”

“There’s a limit to how much you can fit in a pants pocket, obviously,” Claude goes on, “and some things just can’t go in there at all, but it’s a convenient way to carry a lot of small things. Surprised you didn’t know this already, Teach.”

I am vividly reminded of Homestuck Act 1. “I’ve never carried around that much stuff,” I lie. Claude just raises his eyebrows at me.

“Anyway,” he says, “let me tell you about the bulletin boards.” He explains while we walk from the audience chamber back to the Golden Deer classroom, talking calmly and clearly. He’d be an excellent teacher himself, I think. I nod very earnestly and try to pretend everything Claude says is news to me, while looking around him to see if there’s anything interesting happening. “... And I think that covers it! Any questions?”

“Um...” I look at the bulletin board. In thin, elegant script is a note asking for someone to help Flayn catch a fish. I take the note off the board. “Do I just... take this to the pond, or what?”

“Pretty much. You know how to fish, Teach?”

“I’m great at it,” I lie. I assume if Byleth’s body can fight for me, it can fish for me as well. And I like Flayn. She deserves some fish.

“Alright, then I’ll leave you to it. You think you can walk to the pond from here by yourself?”

“Of course! Thank you for all your help.” I bow slightly. 

Claude waves me off. “Just doing my job! Make sure you talk to everybody today, if you see them. Get to know your students and all that.”

“Will do!” I give him a mock salute.

And then I see a cat on the grass in the middle of the lawn.

Garreg Mach has a lot of stray cats. I noticed this in the game, I noticed it again here. But this particular cat looks a lot like my cat Belka back home. So, it is not entirely my fault that I forget where I am and run over to pet the cat. A thing I couldn’t actually do in the game. Her fur is soft and silky. She is the best cat in the world.

You know that xkcd graph of how human intelligence approaches zero the closer the human is to a cat? As I am telling the cat how soft and pretty she is, and how much she deserves sausages, I can hear Claude clearing his throat uncomfortably over my shoulder.

“So, Teach,” he begins, “care to explain why you’re talking to that cat in Albinean?”

I freeze. 

_ Sothis, sweetie, could you please turn back the hands of time a minute or two so I don’t have to go through this conversation? _

“My Divine Pulse is a tool to be used only for battle.” Sothis yawns. “It’s too powerful and dangerous to throw it around whenever you say the wrong thing in a conversation. And don’t call me ‘sweetie!’”

I think guiltily of the half-dozen save files I made due to messing up too many dialogue options in a row. Sothis sighs. I can’t see her shaking her head, but I know she’s doing it.

“Uh,” I say. “How do you know what Albinean sounds like, first of all?” 

“I’ve met a few ambassadors from there when I was younger. Not the point. Teach, how do you know Albinean?”

Apparently Russian from our world sounds like Albinean from their world. Neat! How do I explain this to Claude. “Uh... when I was young, my father and I traveled through Albinea, and I was at the age when kids just soak up languages, you know, and managed to pick it up... and there was a cat I got... very attached to... so I associate cats with that memory, now. I’m a bit rusty, though.” There. Good lies have a grain of truth to them, right?

Claude stares back, unimpressed. “I don’t know what the truth is, but I’m sure that’s not it.” I roll my eyes, slightly embarrassed. “But actually though, doesn’t Albinean use a different alphabet? What do you think of leading a seminar or two for the Golden Deer about Albinean? We can use it to send coded messages and pass information on the battlefield. Maybe not for the first mock battle, but in the future.”

“Hmm... That could be useful, yeah. Certainly something the other houses don’t have.” I have a vague memory of Ryan Estrada’s Learn to Read Russian in 15 Minutes instructional comic I could work off of for a lesson, and other, older memories of trying to teach my best friends in elementary school how to read my family’s language. Some of those friends went on to take Russian classes in college because of me, which was weirdly flattering to hear about. “I’ll schedule something for next weekend.”

“Great. I’ll check the library for any books on or in Albinean that could be useful.” Claude turns to leave, and then stops. “And in the meantime, maybe I can teach you how to lie better.” He winks at me.

“I look forward to learning from a master,” I reply, which startles a laugh out of him.

Anyway. I have to go get Flayn her fish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mostly just setting up things that might be useful in the future as well as telling the internet some fun facts about me I guess! also icymi [sothis's playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Axnj7FWrYtmcJxHqOJ4CX) exists now


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the mock battle happens!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update schedule lol what's that  
> sorry! have some content

The next few days pass in a blur of introductions and training. I get my crest analyzed by Hanneman, fish, garden, cook, train. People keep asking me to do basic tasks in a way that feels like it’s more for me than them, like I remember from the game.But I’m lucky, Byleth’s body remembers how to fish, and I guess the part of her brain I have access to during this body timeshare remembers things about gardening I never learned in my other life. I learn that while I don’t know how to swing a sword consciously, if I have a sword in my hands, I can do it. So long as I don’t think about it.

I meet Jeritza and Tomas and wonder how badly I’d mess things up if I tried to expose them now. I shouldn’t, not until I have the skills to deal with them.

“Is Byleth, like, still alive?” I ask Sothis, when I’m back in my room at the end of the day.

“Yes,” Sothis replies without hesitation. “I can feel her, the same way I can feel you, but she’s buried deeper. Like... what’s more than sleeping but less than death?”

“A coma?” I don’t know how to feel about this, especially since I can’t feel Byleth’s soul the way Sothis can. “Do you know when she’ll wake up?”

Sothis shrugs. 

“I thought you knew everything. You’re a goddess.”

Sothis sticks her tongue out at me. “Just because I’m a goddess doesn’t mean I know everything! I don’t know what computers are even though you keep thinking that word, and I can’t understand the other languages your songs are in. I can’t predict the future either.”

“What do you know, then? Besides the Divine Pulse thing?”

She tries to smile mysteriously, but I get the sense I’m making her angry. Probably a bad idea, but too late to change that now. “If you’re nicer to me, maybe I’ll let you find out. Can you make a new song play in your head?”

I sigh theatrically, but try to think of another song for Sothis anyway. “Never ask me to sing out loud, by the way, it’s not happening.”

“Noted.”

The mock battle is scheduled for two days after I arrived at the monastery, not giving me any time to teach a proper class. I spend the day before the battle chasing down the Golden Deer kids individually, dragging them to the training hall and trying to figure out where they’re at, skills-wise and personal confidence-wise. It’s not very helpful— without the numbers and letters of measurement I’m used to, I have no idea how Leonie’s handling of a bow and lance compares to Ashe or Ingrid, for example. And I have no idea how much leading I’ll be expected to do on the field.

The morning of the battle dawns bright and early, and I am awakened by a goddess sitting on my chest like she’s my cat from home and she needs to be fed Right Now or she will Scream.

“Good morning,” says Sothis.

“What the fuck,” I reply. 

“Rise and shine, not-Byleth! You have a long day ahead of you. Come on, go eat breakfast.”

“Okay, I’ll eat,” I sigh, and end up in the dining hall. 

I sit down next to Claude.

“Well, you'll be our commander, that much is for sure. Just don't screw it up and everything'll be great. Got it, Teach?”

I give him a thumbs up. I want to say no promises, but I feel like that would make the metaphorical support bar go down. “We got this,” I say instead, and then want to kick myself because that sounded way too modern for this setting.

Claude raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment on it. “Right. I'll do whatever I can to help too. I mean, I'm kind of obligated to. For example! If I add a little something to their food to upset their stomachs...”

“Fuck no,” I say immediately. “Don’t even think about it, von Reigan.”

“Yeah, yeah, wink, wink. I read you. You can't officially condone that sort of thing, right? But say, hypothetically speaking, students from the other houses started racing to the infirmary... As far as anyone knows, it could just be a harmless little stomach bug making the rounds.”

“ _ Fuck _ no.” 

“You do use stronger language than any other teacher I’ve ever had,” Claude muses. “I don’t mind, of course, but some people might lose respect for you if they heard you swearing like that.”

I wince. “I’m...trying to keep that in mind.” It’s hard, okay! I curse a lot! Bad words just fall out of my mouth! 

“Well, well. What a fascinating conversation you two are having. May we join?” Edelgard appears with her own food, Dimitri close behind her.

Dimitri sits down on the other side of me, just like on the first day, and Edelgard sits down opposite. I find myself hoping this arrangement becomes our default. Interhouse friendship could help change the tides of the war, maybe.

I let them brag and boast and focus on eating. Breakfast today is the Sweet Bun Trio I remember from the game. Pretty nice, but the knowledge that I’d have to invent bagels to get a breakfast bagel around here (and I do not actually know how to make bagels from scratch) is already getting to me a bit. I miss breakfast bagels.

“I'm rather eager to see what sort of scheme that mind of yours conjures up.”

“You heard 'em, Teach. We can't let these fine folks down.”

“If they insist,” I say. Claude grins.

After breakfast, I’m whisked off by Manuela to the faculty strategy meeting. Which is, Manuela and Hanneman explain things to me, the only new person involved in this.

“It’s generally considered a good idea for the professor to stand on a stronghold until attacked first, and then move. Let the students make independent decisions. However, since you’re only just now learning how these kids fight, you might want to take a more active role in the battle,” Hanneman says, leaning against the edge of his desk.

I nod solemnly. I remembered in the game I could only choose some students to send into the mock battle, but that seems kind of unfair now. Maybe that was a game construct to ease the player into the battling system? “Do I have to choose which students will participate, or does everyone in the officer’s academy get involved?”

“Since it’s a practice battle, and there’ll be three groups fighting at once, you have to choose three students besides your house leader to send into battle,” Manuela explains, then smiles at me. “I don’t intend to tell you who I’m selecting to represent the Black Eagles, of course. You’ll see soon enough.”

“We won’t lose,” I say. But then it occurs to me: I’m not a game protagonist anymore, am I? I could totally lose. And then what?

“Don’t think like that, dummy,” Sothis hisses. “You have to believe you’re going to win or you never will!”

_ Fine, fine _ , I think back at her.  _ Who do you think I should use? _

“Orange hair, blue hair, and pink hair,” she says immediately.

_ You still haven’t learned their names? But, yes, I was thinking Leonie, Marianne, and Hilda as well. Lysithea’s insanely powerful, but she’s too squishy right now to be practical.  _

“Er... Byleth? You still with us?” Manuela waves a hand in front of my face.

“Huh? Oh. Yes, sorry. Lost in thought.” This is why I’d rather not talk to Sothis in public!

“As I was saying, we need to head out soon. Go talk to your kids.”

“Right! Thank you for taking the time to get me up to speed.” I bow for emphasis.

“No problem at all,” Hannemann says. 

The Golden Deer kids are gathered in the classroom, and the conversation dies instantly the moment I walk in. I feel kind of powerful.

I clear my throat. “So, for the mock battle... Leonie, Marianne, and Hilda, you’re going to be on the field.”

“Noooooooo,” Hilda whines immediately. “Professor, please, I promise I’m totally useless!”

“Reverse psychology, Hilda, I told you,” Claude mutters, looking cheerful.

“Me too...” Marianne adds, staring at the floor. “I’ll only bring everyone down...”

“Both of you stop that,” I snap. “Hilda, I’ve seen you in training, you’re remarkably strong and fast. You can beat up anybody. And Marianne, you’re the only person in this house who knows how to heal already. We need you.”

I turn to Leonie. “If I give you a lance and a bow, do you think you could handle switching between them as needed?”

Leonie straightens up, nodding intently. “I’m ready.”

I believe her. Girl was my MVP for most of my battles on Verdant Wind.

“Everyone else, you’re going to be providing vital moral support, got it? You are all strong and capable and I believe in all of you.” I just want Hilda to get some motivation and Marianne to feel more confident. And Leonie to level up faster so she can become a bow knight and kick everybody’s ass.

“Cool, then, let’s head out.” And we do.

I learn very quickly that fast traveling is not actually a thing that happens here. The three houses, and Jeralt, all march to an empty field about a mile out from the monastery? It feels like it’s taking forever, since we’re all lugging our weapons and packs of water and vulneraries. Granted, they’re training weapons, so they’re made of wood, but apparently weaponry is exempt from the infinite pockets thing in this universe. I can only imagine what going to battle later would be like, once I’ve amassed a whole convoy full of ancient relics and broken swords. Ugh.

At any rate, we get to the battlefield eventually, and the Golden Deer are pointed to a corner and told to set up there. I squint at the field to see if I can tell who’s being sent out from the other houses. I’m somewhat relieved everyone’s character designs are so distinctive: I can make out Ferdinand’s pale orange hair and Mercedes’s shawl from across the whole field.

“What’s the plan, teach?” Claude asks, folding his arms up behind his head.

“Okay so,” I say, having been thinking about this plan for most of the day and refining it in my head with Sothis’s input on the walk over. “We’re going to go for the Black Eagles first, and then pivot east to the Blue Lions. Leonie, Hilda, you’re in front. Go for the mages like Hubert and Dorothea, they tend to be weaker to physical attacks. Claude, you’re a ranged attacker with your bow. Keep your distance. Aim for Dimitri, Edelgard and Ferdinand, I think they’ll be the most susceptible to bow attacks. Leonie, if you see a good opening for using a bow, go for it. Marianne...” I turn to Marianne, who seems startled I still haven’t changed my mind about including her. “Stay next to Claude. Keep your distance, be prepared to attack with Nosferatu if you need to, but also be ready to heal anyone who gets hit. Oh, and be sure to take advantage of the forest and hide in it as much as you can!”

“I’ll do my best,” Marianne whispers. Hilda puts an arm around her and says something, too quiet for me to hear.

“And what’ll you be doing, I wonder?” Hilda asks. “Surely you’re not going to make your students do  _ all _ the work for you, Professor?”

I will be screaming internally while I let Byleth’s instincts take over this body and beat up some teenagers, thank you for asking! “I’ll lead the attack, of course.”

Jeralt calls for the battle to start, and we’re off.

It is slightly nerve-wracking to not have perfect control over the actions of my entire team. I just have to charge ahead and hope my little speech before the battle was enough instruction to get an acceptable performance out of them. 

I also get a better understanding of the movement mechanic! I run forward as far as I can, and then I suddenly realize with perfect clarity that I’m getting winded, and if I keep going I will keel over without hitting anyone. And the Black Eagles are still a good twenty feet ahead of me. The moment I stop to catch my breath, Ferdinand notices me, and sprints forward.

I’m not good with spatial dynamics, so I can’t say how big the battlefield is. Bigger than the fields we played soccer on in high school gym class, that’s about the only thing I can say for sure. Anyway, Ferdinand von Aegir, true to form, shouts “I am Ferdinand von Aegir!” and lunges with his training lance at me. I jump to the side on Byleth’s instinct, and dodge it successfully. Thank you, Byleth-body.

Game Byleth would’ve said “Predictable,” probably, I remember her saying that a lot. I say “Eek,” because I am not cool and stoic at all.

It feels weird to fight Ferdinand. I know he’s the same age as my friend Phoebe’s younger sister, whom I’ve known since she was like ten, so I can’t help but feel like I’m whacking a baby with a wooden training sword. Why am I even being allowed to fight these students, I am an Adult.

This is so unbalanced, I think distantly, as I parry his lance and lunge forward without having to make any kind of conscious effort. It is surreal to feel your body moving without any input from your actual brain, but I know if I tried to strategize now, I’ll end up in the fencing attack stance I learned in middle school. I’m pretty sure fencing with a thin pointy epee has about as much in common with broadsword fighting as a fish with an octopus. 

Somehow, Byleth disarms Ferdinand, and knocks him to the ground. Nice. “I yield,” he pants. “I am the son of House Aegir! How did I fail? I must train harder...”

Oh jeez, I forgot how annoying this kid could be sometimes. “Practice makes perfect, Ferdinand,” I say, pulling him up with my free arm. “It was a good attempt.” 

He smiles wanly at me, and trudges off the field. I look around to see how the rest of the Golden Deer are doing. 

Wait, I have a goddess sharing my head.  _ Sothis, can you keep an eye on everyone else for me? Are they doing well? _

“Blue Hair’s healing Orange Hair, who thrashed the Creepy Tall Man soundly. Pink Hair got Hat Girl off the field, and Claude has shot three arrows at Edelgard so far but she’s being stubborn.”

“I know you know their names by now,” I mutter as I scan the field. She’s right: Edelgard and Manuela are the only Black Eagles left. The Blue Lions have started moving toward us too, but I’d rather eliminate the need to fight two groups at once.

“I guess I’ll go for Manuela now,” I say, and yell, “Hilda! Go help Claude!”

“Fiiiiiiine,” she yells back, but she’s already running at Edelgard with her axe. I then remember Edelgard is also an axe user, but she’s been weakened enough by Claude for Hilda to land a final blow.

“Good job!” I shout, and then turn to Manuela, who steps off her heal tile as I come closer.

Manuela’s makes a circle of golden light and fires it at me. I don’t manage to dodge it fast enough, and so I learn what it feels like to get whacked with a Nosferatu to the chest. As it turns out: like pulling an all-nighter in the space of a millisecond.

Nosferatu drains the opponent’s life force and gives it to the caster, or something like that, right? I definitely feel a bit drained, but not to the point that I can’t keep fighting. I hope Marianne can heal me later. 

I let the instincts take over and slash at Manuela. She falls faster than Ferdinand did, which I wasn’t expecting. “Uh, sorry, Manuela,” I feel the need to apologize.

“What are you apologizing for?” She wheezes. “You’ve done well. I nearly wound up a patient in my own infirmary.”

“That’s why I’m apologizing!” A real mercenary wouldn’t apologize for hitting someone in a mock battle, would she. I am terrible at this.

“It’s all part of the battle, dear.” Manuela pats me on my cheek like an auntie at an awkward family reunion and walks away.

I turn around and see the Blue Lions have already started their attack on us, having advanced slowly while I wasn’t paying attention.

Ashe aims straight at Marianne and hits her squarely in the chest. She drops like a rock. A horrible feeling seeps in my chest, a combination of guilt and shame and whatever emotion “all my gamer friends are going to laugh at me for losing a unit in the mock battle” is.

“Hey, Sothis, Divine Pulse, please?”

“I was waiting for you to ask.” The world swirls and goes gray. “How far back do you want to go?”

“The beginning of my conversation with Manuela, after I’ve beaten her.”

“It shall be done.”

The world is restored to normal again, and Manuela is telling me I did well. Now that I’m paying attention, I can also hear Dimitri yelling something in the distance, probably telling me how great his house is and how they totally won’t lose to us.

“Thank you, Manuela!” I tell her, and start running towards Marianne. I don’t think I’m going to reach her in time, since true to my orders she’s standing far behind the rest of my core group. Claude is the closest to her, but he looks tired, and I suspect he’s taken more than a few hits already.

“Claude, cover Marianne!” I shout at him anyway. “Marianne! Attack! Ashe!” Sorry Ashe.

I watch Ashe react to my yelling and lower his bow, looking perplexed. “How did you know—”

Marianne doesn’t let him finish, and aims a Nosferatu directly at him instead. I follow that up with a swipe of my sword. And Ashe goes down.

“Ah–so strong! Have to do better next time...” Ashe looks at me as he leaves, squinting slightly. “I’m still not sure how you knew I was aiming for Marianne right then, Professor...”

“Battle instincts,” I decide, nodding firmly. “It was a good idea, though!”

It is super annoying to have a first person view of the field instead of an overhead shot where I can see everyone’s position at once, with little icons indicating exactly who’s where. From my vantage point, I can see Claude taking a sip from his vulnerary while saying something smug to Edelgard, who is limping off the field. She flashes me a pained smile when she notices me watching. “To think that the Black Eagles could lose so readily...”

_ Hey, Sothis, how far from my body can you project yourself? _

“Not higher than a wyvern’s flight,” Sothis replies. “But if you were paying attention to the battle instead of interrogating me, you would see that right now Hilda and Leonie are both approaching Dedue, while Claude has finished with Edelgard and is now aiming for Dimitri.”

I can’t even see Dimitri from where I’m standing, but I’ll take her word on that. “That’s stupid, Dedue’s a fucking tank, if anyone should be dealing with him it’s either me or Marianne,” I mutter, and come closer to Marianne. “Marianne? How are we feeling?”

“Um, I’m okay, I think,” Marianne whispers. 

“Do you have any more Nosferatus in you? Think you can aim one at Dedue?”

Marianne tilts her head, apparently considering. “Yes,” she says after a second of thought. She nods. “I can do it.”

“Fabulous,” I tell her. “Hilda! Leonie! Remember what I said about mages being weaker to physical attacks? Aim for Mercedes!” Sorry Mercedes. She’s bringing up the rear of the Blue Lions squad, casting a heal spell on Dimitri while Claude shoots arrows at him. The three remaining lions (minus Hanneman) are clustered together, several feet away from us, with Dedue in the front, Dimitri behind him and slightly to the right, and Mercedes next to Dimitri, healing.

On the Golden Deer side, we have Claude, in front, Hilda and Leonie behind him, and Marianne and I trying to catch up.

There’s a weird pause as the two remaining teams size each other up. Everyone is looking a little worse for wear.

“Marianne,” I whisper to her. “Could you hit Dedue from here with your spell?”

“I can try,” she whispers back, and before I can say anything else, swings her arm up in a flash of light. And again.

“Apologies, Your Highness. I can go no further.”

“ _ Fantastic  _ job,” I tell Marianne, beaming. “Really, you’re amazing.”

“Ah... Thank you.” Marianne looks away, blushing. I’m so happy she’s on my team.

I make my way towards the heal tile Hanneman is standing on, trusting the rest of the golden deer to have Dimitri and Mercedes in hand. There’s two of them and four of us, how hard could it be?

I hear Leonie shouting something as she attacks Mercedes and turn around. She  _ really  _ goes for it, pushing the taller girl right off her feet with one thrust of her practice lance. I guess that must’ve been a critical hit. It looked badass.

“Excellent! Keep it up!”

Hilda whacks Dimitri with her axe, and he finally yields. Great. 

Hanneman starts moving towards me, but he is way slower than Byleth’s body. That’s also new — my old body was consistently the slowest runner in gym class for all of grade school, and even when I did sports they weren’t sports that required fast running. I think this body has a different running form than I’d ever used in my own body, too.

Unfortunately, he’s a mage unit. When I’m still like five feet away from him, a gust of wind whips out of the sky and hits me. It feels like a wave of cold and pressure washing over my body, but like, I’ve experienced worse winds outside back home. 

I look at the dinky wooden training sword in my hand. I look at Hanneman, setting up for another spell. I bravely resist the urge to yell “Leroy Jenkins” as I run forward, swinging the blade and trying to keep my conscious brain from thinking about how to hit him.

My arm goes up in a pose that seems kind of like a critical hit pose to me, but I can’t remember the critical quotes and don’t know what to make up. Also, isn’t it kind of corny, to say things when you hit people? The only quote that comes to mind is “your motherfucking life ends 30 minutes from now” from Pop Team Epic, but that would just be weird to say here.

The arm goes down, all of this body’s strength going into that hit. “My goodness. The leadership of someone with actual battle experience is... Well! I was as good as useless.”

“And with that,” Jeralt’s voice rings out over the battlefield, enhanced by either magic or a megaphone I don’t know if they exist here yet. “The winner of this mock battle is... The Golden Deer House!”

I raise one arm up in the air and follow Hanneman off the field. The rest of the Golden Deer kids run to catch up with me.

“Great work, everyone!” Claude says. “Even if it's just a mock battle, the taste of victory is sugary sweet!” God, what a nerd.

“I’m really impressed with everyone’s performances today,” I tell them. “You all did a great job of both following orders and acting on your own initiative.”

“And did you  _ see  _ Marianne’s attacks!” Hilda swings an arm around her friend. “I’m so proud of her!”

“I know, right?” I say, nudging Marianne. “You’re the star today.” I don’t know if Marianne would be counted as the MVP for this battle in the game interface, but she’s MVP in my heart, okay?

Marianne stares at the ground, looking embarrassed.

The rest of the Golden Deer are waiting at the edge of the field, sharing a bag of cookies Lysithea grabbed from the kitchen before heading out. Good thinking, Lysithea.

Lorenz says... something Lorenzy I tune out instantly. I suddenly realize how exhausted I am, and how much my entire body aches from everyone’s attacks. 

Wait. I have... a vulnerary. Now’s the perfect time to try it out. 

I uncork the bottle and take a cautious sip. It tastes like normal water, but I can feel it sliding down my throat. A wave of energy seems to radiate out of me, and suddenly my bruises feel less bruising and I in general feel more alert and capable of walking back to the monastery unassisted.

The sun begins its descent over the horizon as we walk. I’m still tired, despite the effects of the vulnerary, but it seems everyone else is as well. There isn’t as much chatter as there was on the way here. Raphael and Ingrid speculating about dinner.

All in all, it’s been a pretty successful day, I decide.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teaching Happens In This One

My first day of class is the day immediately after the mock battle, which I think is a cruel and unusual punishment.

“Has no one heard of rest days?” I grumble as I try to fasten Byleth’s dumb mercenary shield shirt over her unnaturally flat stomach, before giving up and going through the wardrobe for a normal person shirt. “Can I legally wear this outside?”

“If you put a uniform vest or jacket over it, yes, because that’s technically underclothes,” Sothis tells me from where she’s hovering. 

“Wait, how would you know, weren’t you sleeping for the past thousand years?”

“I know this land better than you do,” Sothis says with the kind of ironclad confidence I’ve always dreamed of having.

I pull a vest on over the shirt. I look distressingly like genderbent Felix, so I take the vest off and replace it with a jacket and shorts like Edelgard’s. I keep the lace tights, but add higher boots.

People are going to be mistaking me for a student like this, I realize. Still, better than Cleavage Armor that takes three full minutes to buckle up. 

I throw the cloak over my shoulder and do a twirl for Sothis. “Thoughts?”

“Very respectable,” Sothis tells me. “Now go, you have to eat breakfast before class starts!”

“Why are you so preoccupied with me eating breakfast?”

“You need to take care of this body! You’re sharing it with at least two people! You have to feed it well.”

“‘At least two?’ Mmm, don’t like that.” I remember that one song featuring the vocaloid Gumi, where she developed ten personalities because of a crush... she called them the tenants inside her or something. It’s been a while since I listened to it.

This time, Claude sits down next to me immediately, but Dimitri and Edelgard are hovering nearby like they’re not sure they should be eating with us. I gesture frantically at the table, like, “sit down, dummies.” Three times makes a pattern! We  _ will  _ eat breakfast together every day, dammit!

“Are you prepared to teach your first class, professor?” Edelgard inquires. She very precisely cuts her eggs and bacon into bite-sized pieces. I feel mildly self-conscious of my own more haphazard table manners, although they are in line with my mercenary backstory.

“I think I am,” I say, which gets a chuckle out of Claude. I feel mildly accomplished. 

In reality, I have no idea how teaching will work. Will Byleth’s weapons experience be like an encyclopedia inside my head I can call on to teach in my own style? Will I have to improvise from what I noticed when playing the game? 

“Your performance at the mock battle was as impressive as I expected,” Dimitri contributes. “If you can fight and lead your students in battle so well, I’m sure you’ll have no problem instructing them.”

“Plenty of people who are skilled at something are awful teachers,” I point out. “People naturally gifted at a certain skill tend to have a hard time explaining how they do it to others.”

“That is true,” Dimitri allows, “but I’m sure your students will be able to learn a lot from you.” He lowers his voice a bit, then. “I do wish you had decided to lead the Blue Lions, but, I suppose it’s too late to change that now.”

“Sure is, your Princeliness.” Claude grins, leaning his elbow on my shoulder. Which is a thing I do to my friends on a regular basis. I lean away from him. “Boundaries, Claudigan.”

Claude’s jaw drops. “ _ Claudigan? _ ”

“Claude could be short for Claudigan.” I sip my tea. I am so glad this universe has a tea culture. The cheap common “tea of the saints” blend everyone drinks is honestly pretty decent black tea.

“Claude is  _ not _ short for— never mind. The point is, Teach is on our team now, and there’s nothing either of you can do about it.”

“I do hope we continue eating our meals together like this,” I say pointedly. “Never underestimate the importance of interhouse bonding.”

That... sounded kind of stupid, now that I’ve said it out loud. But oh well.

“It is a nice change of pace,” Edelgard admits. “I do enjoy a light round of verbal sparring in the morning.”

“As do I, Princess.” Claude winks at her. Edelgard shakes her head ruefully.

After breakfast, I have about half an hour to meet with Rhea and get the Mission of the Month (right, the bandits, I remember that part) and then prepare for the class, which is both plenty of time and not enough. Rhea and the other professors give me lesson plans and a syllabus because this was so short-notice, which helps. The first class is going to be on swordfighting, because that’s my— Byleth’s — strength. I’m going to take them all to the training grounds and let them all fight each other in pairs, correcting people’s stances, before demonstrating myself and then leading them through exercises.

The difference between teaching and combat is, I had zero knowledge of combat, so I could easily let Byleth’s instincts take control and not worry about it. But I do have some teaching experience, and I want to try teaching these students. I just don’t have all of the information I should be teaching them.

But... Byleth does.

“Hey, Sothis?”

“What do you want?” Sothis appears in front of me.

“You can read both mine and Byleth’s minds, right?”

“Sort of? Byleth is harder to access because she’s asleep. But I can try to look at her memories of swordfighting for you.”

“Could you look at what Byleth knows about proper swordfighting form and then...transfer that to my mind somehow? Like, I’m imagining a file transfer right now, do you see it? Can you make that happen with Byleth’s combat knowledge?”

Sothis sighs deeply and floats upside down. “I shall make the attempt. You’ll know if it works.”

The Golden Deer show up at the training grounds on time, which is good to see. Even Hilda is there, pushed through the door by Claude.

“Are you all ready for SWORDS CLASS?” I ask.

They stare at me in silence. It is at that moment that I remember nobody in Golden Deer is a swords specialist. 

Okay, fine. “I want everyone to run five laps around the perimeter of the grounds to warm up.”

This, surprisingly, is met with a confused murmur. It is at  _ that  _ moment that I remember this is technically the middle ages, and apparently gym class hasn’t been invented yet. 

Thank God I did a sport in high school. “Has anyone noticed that when you start exercising, you’re a bit stiffer than after you have already exercised for a while?”

Some nodding. Emboldened by this, I keep going. “Where I grew up, it was customary to do stretches and light aerobics like running to loosen and prepare one’s muscles before starting more vigorous athletic activity, like sword practice. This reduces the risk of injuries from muscle strain as well. Does that make sense?”

Nods all around. Raphael especially looks like I just revealed a deep mystery of the universe.

“I’ve never thought of it that way,” says Leonie. “I’ll definitely keep it in mind in the future.” 

Score one for Professor Me. Byleth who? “Great! Okay, laps. Don’t push yourself. If you find yourself short of breath, switch to walking. It’s not a race. And then we’ll stretch.”

On second thought, maybe stretching was supposed to happen before running? Eh, they’ll be fine.

Claude and Lorenz end up racing each other until they’re both almost sprinting by the end of the third lap. “Claude, Lorenz! You can’t expend all your energy now, you still have a whole morning’s worth of drills to do! Slow down!”

“He started it,” Lorenz pants.

“I didn’t start anything, you just decided you had to run faster than me!”

“I literally do not care at all,” I say, putting a stop to that.

Everyone finishes their five laps, Hilda walking all of them to keep pace with Marianne. Marianne attempted to run but then switched to a walk, looking disappointed with herself. Lysithea was unexpectedly fast at first, but couldn’t run for all five laps either. Mostly, the run confirms what I already knew: most of the Golden Deer kids have some speed, but need to work on stamina. They’ll get better, I hope.

“Excellent work! We’ll do this before every physical training day from now on. Now, stretches!” I lead them in a round of stretches I vaguely recall from years of gym class, and fencing, and gymnastics and all the other sports I tried in my past life.

“Everyone feeling warmed up? Good. Go get some training swords.” They do so. I’m impressed at how much everyone seems to listen to me. They’re so much more obedient than the classes I’ve taught before. 

Lysithea hangs back a bit as everyone else is digging through the storage closet for practice swords. “Professor? Do I really have to do sword training if I intend to focus on my magic skills?”

“Absolutely.” I was expecting this. “Right now, if someone were to hit you in battle, you’d fall after taking a single hit. You need to either get strong enough to be able to take several hits in a row, or get fast enough that you can dodge any attack. At any rate, you have to get fast enough at casting spells that you can counter any attack immediately. Physical exercise is the best way to build that foundation, so you can become a powerful mage instead of a glass cannon.”

Lysithea nods intently. I really, really hope she internalizes this; I have big plans for her, but only if she can handle being on the front lines. At some point, Lorenz will get Thyrsus, and I will unceremoniously give his family’s Relic to Lysithea, and then she will be completely unstoppable and nuking enemies from across the battlefield in a single shot. But until then, I need her to toughen up.

“You are going to be amazing,” I tell her, trying to put all the conviction I have into my voice. “But you have to work for it.”

Lysithea looks me in the eye. She is really short, even shorter than I expected from the in-game sprites. “I will.”

I smile.

“You have exceeded my expectations of your teaching abilities,” Sothis concedes. “But my expectations were very low. Let’s see how you do with the swordfighting.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes.  _ Just show me what a proper stance looks like _ .

An image appears in my brain of a younger Byleth standing next to Jeralt, while Jeralt adjusted the position of her feet on the ground. So that’s how it works. It feels kind of like I’m looking through image search results for a reference photo for my drawing, not like I’m watching a stranger’s memories. Maybe because they’re filtered through Sothis, or maybe because Byleth is asleep, I don’t feel any particular emotion attached to the experience. Weird.

I line everyone up in pairs: Raphael against Leonie, Claude against Lorenz, Hilda and Ignatz, and Marianne against Lysithea. Good thing there’s an even number of them for now. I look at the lineup critically. 

_ Sothis _ , I think,  _ should I switch Leonie with Ignatz? Or anyone else? _

“Let them practice for now, and then switch people around. I think everyone should take a turn sparring against everyone else.”

_ Oh, duh, I could make them move down the line like in swing dancing! Of course. _

“I don’t know what that is, but sounds horribly vulgar.”

_ I’ll show you later, maybe. _ “Okay!” I clap my hands, and address the Golden Deer. “Show me what you can do!”

The morning flies by. Everyone seems more or less engaged in the activity, even Hilda. Sothis successfully transfers Byleth’s memory files into my mind somehow. I think everyone’s stances improved a bit. After lunch is independent study where I can coach students one on one, and assign the paired tasks for Saturday.

“Marianne and Leonie, you’re both on stable duty,” I say immediately. I want them to work on their riding skills so I can put them on horses as soon as possible.“Hilda and Claude, sky watch. Raphael and Ignatz, weeding. I guess that leaves Lorenz and Lysithea on cooking duty. Everyone got that?”

Resigned nods. Claude raises his hand. “Teach, I’d switch Leonie and Lorenz if you want dinner to be actually edible.”

“Such vile accusations about my culinary abilities will not be tolerated!”

“Claude, don’t be rude, I have complete faith in Lorenz,” I lie. I’ve never used Lorenz to cook before, I usually go for the Blue Lions kids who are all weirdly good at it. ... He’ll probably be fine. Lysithea’s type A enough to follow a recipe well at least.

For the rest of the day, everyone just reads and answers questions from their workbooks about the theory of whatever their area of interest is, and I get to call people up to come to my desk and get One on One Instruction whenever I feel like it. 

I end up feeling rather like a parent trying to help their child with calculus after decades without math classes. While Byleth’s body knows a bit about most weapons in this world (and Sothis kindly Airdrops that information into me as well,) I’m pretty lacking in the Reason and Faith department. I just didn’t grow up with the kind of magic that exists in this world. Most of my advice to Lysithea and Marianne boils down to just common-sense filtering and tips on applying first aid to wounds left over from my brief stint as a lifeguard in high school.

The experience is, overall, draining and demoralizing. I’m going to have to schedule Faculty Training with Hanneman and Manuela as soon as possible.

After classes end for the day and everyone begins to file out of the Golden Deer classroom, I find Sylvain waiting by the door.

Jesus Christ, not again. “Do you need something?” I try to keep the irritation out of my voice. It’s not his fault he is Like That. Mostly.

“Hey, Professor,” Sylvain beams, like I didn’t even say anything. “Pretty great timing. I want to ask you something. I'd like to be in your class, if that's possible. I've been thinking maybe I oughta get serious about studying.”

“Really? Sure you’re not a spy for Dimitri?”

Sylvain blinks at that. “Not a spy, I promise. If his highness wanted someone to spy on you, why would he send me of all people? I just think I’d learn better from such a young and lovely teacher such as yourself.”

I bravely resist the urge to roll my eyes, but I knew this was going to happen from the start. I recruited Sylvain every playthrough anyway. I’m in a groupchat called “the reluctant Sylvain stan support group,” for crying out loud, I can’t just let him not be in my class no matter how annoying he gets. “Fine. Be here on time tomorrow.”

“I'll be there on time and in the front row and everything,” he promises. “You'll never have a better student.”

“I dunno, I do have Lysithea here, after all...”

“But I’m better looking than Lysithea, aren’t I?” He gives me a look that’s probably supposed to be attractive but just makes me kind of nauseous.

“Never do that to me ever again. Didn’t we already have this conversation?”

“Right, sorry, reflex.”

I look Sylvain directly in the eye. “We  _ will  _ talk more about that later.” It’s not that I think I have to Fix Sylvain singlehandedly or anything. But I think I have some context and life experience that could help him, at least a little.

Sylvain looks as though he is reconsidering his decision to be in my class. Too bad! No takebacks!

I sit down for dinner with the house leaders again. “Sylvain’s joining the Golden Deer,” I announce unceremoniously.

“What?” Dimitri explodes. His fist comes down on the table with a bang. I'm surprised it doesn't break the wood. “He didn’t tell me anything!”

“If it makes you feel any better, I think it’s just because of my looks.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short like that,” Edelgard says. “You did win the mock battle after all.”

Claude is thinking it over. “Sylvain is smart,” he says, “even though his personality is... whew. He could be a great classmate to have.”

“He is a great classmate,” Dimitri grumbles. “We’ve been friends since we were children! How could he just throw it all away for— I mean no offense, Professor.”

“None taken,” I shrug. I almost call him Dima, but stop myself in time. Maybe later. 

The dinner today is another fish stew thing of some kind. Not my favorite, but edible. Probably on par with the food my college dining hall had. “Alright, gang, highs and lows?”

“Highest point was gardening with Dedue after lunch,” Dimitri says, and then switches abruptly to a low, growling tone. “Lowest point was finding out Sylvain switched classes, and not even from the man himself!”

“You can beat him up later, your Princeliness,” Claude says, reaching around me to pat Dimitri’s shoulder. Dimitri stares at Claude’s hand incredulously. “As for me, my highest point was beating Leonie in a practice match. Lowest point was discovering that Lorenz and Lysithea are on cooking duty this weekend.”

“Press F to pay respects,” I whisper.

“What?”

“Nothing. Edelgard?”

“What were _your_ highs and lows today, professor?” she asks instead, leaning forward. “You always ask us, but never share yourself.”

She makes a good point, but also, she’s stalling. “Alright then, but you go first.”

“My highest point of the day was learning a new combat art with my axe,” Edelgard says, “and my lowest point was...” she turns away. “This is rather embarrassing...”

“Do tell,” Claude and I say simultaneously. 

“Linhardt decided to sleep in front of the Black Eagles classroom today, and I tripped over him and almost broke my nose,” Edelgard says in a rush. “I should’ve been watching where I was going, but he didn’t even notice!”

_ Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh. _ “Did you scold Linhardt for that?”

“Of course I did, but scolding Linhardt is like pouring water on a duck. He just yawned and said he’ll try not to do it again. He probably will.” Edelgard stabs a piece of fish with unnecessary force.

“You can always encourage him to transfer to the Golden Deer,” I say with a smug smile. Edelgard glares at me, but the corner of her mouth twitches. She does think I’m funny! Ha!

“Professor. Highs and lows,” Edelgard reminds me.

“Highest point was getting through the swords class without anyone injuring themselves or bursting into tears,” I say honestly. “Lowest point was realizing how much I still need to learn if I want to really help my students.”

The house leaders are quiet. I lean back a little, bristling. “What?”

“You really do care about teaching, huh,” Claude says, head tilted to one side in consideration. “I know you were just kind of thrown into this position because your dad was pulled into working with the knights, but you’re actually trying your best.”

“Of course I’m trying my best!” I snap. “It’s my duty to be the best instructor I can be, and I take that seriously.”

Dimitri and Edelgard exchange a wistful look and I feel kind of bad I’m not teaching their classes. I wish I could just combine all three classes into one, and teach them all at once. 

Rhea did say though that since Hanneman teaches all Reason classes and Manuela all Faith classes, I will be responsible for Sword classes for all three houses as well. So I’ll get some time with the Blue Lions and the Black Eagles in my future.

“I’ll be teaching your houses swordfighting later in the week,” I tell them. “You’ll get to see for yourself.” They perk up at that. 

“Teach is a master of swords. You’re going to learn a lot from her.” Claude grins. 

“I studied the blade,” I agree. No one gets the reference, obviously, but it makes me feel better to have said it out loud instead of just thinking about it every time I swing a sword. 

“I look forward to learning from you,” Dimitri tells me, with so much earnestness I can’t help but smile a bit at that.

After dinner, Claude drags me to the library to look for books on Albinean for my secret weekend seminar. The library is surprisingly small, and appears to be completely empty. I think my apartment has about as many books as this library does. I think I remember something about Seteth removing inappropriate books from the shelves, which makes sense. But Claude clearly spends a lot of time here, because he finds three slim tomes in a matter of minutes.

An Albinean-Fodlan dictionary, a field guide to Albinean berries, and an atlas with maps of the area. “That’s about as much as I expected we’d find,” Claude says. “But it’s something!”

I flip through the dictionary. Albinean isn’t perfectly identical to modern Russian, as I discover. There are some words that sound more like Ukranian or Polish to me. But the spelling rules are consistent, and the alphabet at least is the Cyrllic alphabet I know off the top of my head. 

“ _ Молодец, _ ” I tell Claude, patting him on the back.

He laughs uncomfortably. “What does that mean?”

“A person who has done a good job. So, you!”

“Oh. Thank you.  _ Molodetz _ ...” he repeats slowly. “That’s great. I’m going to enjoy your seminar, I can tell.”

I nod. “I’ll focus on quick ways to memorize the alphabet and how to use it for codes, but maybe if we have time we can learn some basic words and phrases.”

A sleepy voice then asks, “What are you two talking about?” It’s coming from under the table in the far corner. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've updated [The Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Axnj7FWrYtmcJxHqOJ4CX) to include ten-faced girl and a swing dance song I like because I mentioned those things this chapter  
> will we ever get to the actual plot of fire emblem three houses? maybe! we'll see


	6. Chapter 6

We watch as Linhardt slowly climbs out and straightens his clothes. His hair is a mess from lying on the floor. “Claude. Professor.” He nods at us both, and then notices the books piled in front of us. “That looks interesting. May I ask what prompted the sudden research into Albinea?"

"Uhh....." I say very intelligently.

Sothis pops into my head again to tell me, "Divine Pulse is battle only, I have told you this! Deal with it yourself!"

_ Fine, I will! _

Claude is attempting to communicate something silently to me, but I've never been good at reading nonverbal cues. Or improvising. 

_ I know you said you can’t turn back time now, but if you could freeze it for like a minute so I could thi— _

“I cannot! I shall not!”

_ Pick one! _

“Professor?” Linhardt asks politely. “Are you planning some sort of extracurricular mission abroad?”

That could work. “Yes! That is exactly what we’re doing. You figured it out.”

Claude smacks his forehead with one hand. Come on, I can’t be that bad at lying!

“You are,” Sothis yells in the back of my head. “You are that bad at lying!” 

Linhardt sighs deeply, like we have both disappointed him. It would be more effective if he didn’t look like he’d just woken up. His ponytail has migrated to the side of his head. “What’s really going on here?”

Claude sighs. “The professor is leading a seminar for the Golden Deer students about using the Albinean alphabet for coded communication this weekend. A Golden Deer exclusive production, I’m afraid!”

“Coming up with secret tactics for your own purposes? That’s...extremely typical of you,” Linhardt says around a yawn. “I didn’t know you knew Albinean, professor.”

“Picked it up while traveling in my youth,” I say. It sounds believable enough to me. “But yeah, we’d rather not let other houses in on this just yet.”

“Fair enough. Then can I join your house?”

I stare at him. “Really? Just for that?” I couldn’t manage to recruit Linhardt on my first playthrough, even though I asked him every single week and got to B-support with him by the last chapter before the time skip. I can’t believe offering a single foreign language class would be enough to get him to switch allegiances.

“If I learn Albinean, I can read books in Albinean. And I always want more books to read,” Linhardt explains. 

“You can’t possibly expect Teach to just let you join our class because you want to learn a language,” Claude scoffs.

“I suppose the future king of Almyra would already be conversational in the less common languages of our world, but I’ve never really had any opportunity to learn, so I’d be interested in trying now. If it’s not too much effort.”

“The future king of Almyra?” I repeat. How did Linhardt find that out so fast? I mean, I knew, I got all of Claude’s supports and read up on the Wiki, but how did Linhardt?

Claude freezes. “So that’s how you want to play this. Alright. Teach, we’re adding Linhardt to our class.” 

“Fine by me. Welcome to the Golden Deer.” I want to recruit as many people as I can, and befriend as many people as I can as well. Also I killed Linhardt on my Verdant Wind run and was very upset about it and I feel like I should make up for that now.

Claude steps forward and grabs Linhardt by the shoulder, squeezing in a way that must be at least a bit painful. “I trust you won’t go spreading that little fact around, will you?”

“Why would I? It doesn’t matter to me,” says Linhardt.

So the Golden Deer house gets two new members in one day. “Please welcome Sylvain and Linhardt to our house,” I announce the next morning. Reactions are mixed.

“Alright! The more the merrier,” Raphael cheers.

“It is prudent for nobles to forge alliances across national borders,” Lorenz announces. 

“Of all people, why does it have to be you two?” Lysithea says, squinting suspiciously.

Everyone else is more or less indifferent to the situation. Claude has a politely neutral expression on his face.

“Happy to be here,” Sylvain says cheerfully. Linhardt nods, already dozing off where he stands. I get the impression this may be the last time I see him in class before noon.

The rest of the week flies by with little incident. I get the other professors to give me a crash course in magic after class on Tuesday, which helps a lot. I also get a tip that Annette’s birthday is next week, so I make a note on my calendar to invite her to tea then. 

Teaching the Blue Lions and Black Eagles swordfighting also goes fairly smoothly. The Blue Lions especially are all more proficient with swords than the Golden Deer were, even Annette, which surprised me. Felix makes me spar with him through lunch.

“Do you want to transfer to the Golden Deer?” I ask him, the wooden point of my practice sword pointing at his throat after Byleth’s Body’s third victory in a row.

He glares at me defiantly. “I might like to someday, but not today.”

Fair enough.

In the Black Eagles, Petra is the only Sword Kid, but Dorothea shows promise. She was a great Mortal Savant on my first run, and a Dancer on my last one. I should encourage her to stick with it.

“You have great instincts for handling swords,” I tell Dorothea in as earnest a voice as I can muster. 

Dorothea raises an eyebrow. “And what do you mean by that?”

I keep my face blank. “I think you should consider specializing in swords, in addition to reason. You could be a powerful mortal savant in the future.”

“Oh. That’s... reassuring, to hear you think so highly of my abilities.” She’s blushing slightly.

I will Byleth’s naturally impassive face to stay impassive. “You’re doing well so far. Keep it up.”

Edelgard keeps glancing at me with a thoughtful expression on her face. I wonder what she might be thinking about.

Saturday is Chores Day for everyone, apparently, and the professors job is to supervise the students as they do their assigned tasks. I end up watching Raphael and Ignatz pull up weeds in the courtyard for a whole hour, and then helping Lorenz and Lysithea avoid setting the kitchen on fire for dinner. My main takeaway from the experience: mandatory chores are crucial for noble children who were not required to perform any amount of manual labor growing up. It is frankly hilarious how little Lorenz or Lysithea know about how to prepare meat. To be fair, I wasn’t sure what a Morfis plum looked like until Lorenz told me, so I suppose we’re on the same level there. The food here is different than I’m used to, but it’s good.

There really are random fruits and vegetables and lost items just lying around wherever at the monastery, it’s wild. It makes me wonder if maybe I really am in a hyper-realistic video game experience. I stuff the things I find into my subspace pockets anyway, and contribute some of my finds to my students’ cooking experiments. 

Sothis wakes me up early on Sunday despite my protests. “It’s seminar day! You have to prepare!”

“I told my class the seminar was going to be in the afternoon, not at seven in the fucking morning.” I know in the game a Seminar was worth all of the activity points for a free day, but an actual day in this world is still 24 hours! I had plenty of time to sleep in, catch some fish at the pond, plant some seeds in the garden, eat a nice, leisurely midday meal...

“Do you know what you’re going to talk about?”

“Yes! I wrote it all out in my journal last night. You were there! Let me go back to sleep.”

Unfortunately, I’ve never been able to go back to sleep after being woken up, so I end up alone in a completely empty dining hall at half past seven in the morning on a Sunday. Breakfast isn’t even being served yet. I sigh and make my way to the kitchen to fry up some eggs and bacon, feeling a bit like I’m back in college. 

“Oh, professor! Good morning!” 

I turn around. Mercedes takes down a brass kettle from a shelf and begins to fill it with water. She looks perfectly put together, not at all sleepy or disheveled. “Mercedes! What are you doing up so early?”

“I could ask the same of you,” she answers sweetly. It’s very strange to remember that she is in fact at least a year older than me or the Byleth-body, and yet I’m supposed to be teaching her. “Would you care for some tea as well?”

“Yes, please. Would you like some eggs, or bacon?” 

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” She adds more water to the kettle and sets it on the fire. I crack a few more eggs into the giant cast iron pan and add some more bacon slices before placing it next to the kettle. The lack of an electric stove is also strange. There are no knobs to turn to my desired heat here, just coals in a brick box. Everything ends up tasting a little smoky when I cook it. I haven’t worked out how to manage this technology yet.

I haven’t had much chance to talk to Mercedes yet, so now’s a great time to try! “I don’t have a lot of cooking experience, but I heard you’re pretty good at it! Do you have any advice?”

It’s true enough: most of what I know how to cook relies on prepackaged ingredients, like noodles from a box or sauce from a jar. I can reliably fry eggs, though. “How do you usually take your eggs? Because this is going to be sunny-side up unless you have any other requests.” I slide a spatula under one of the eggs to test it. They cook a bit slower on the...brazier? Is that the word for it? Than on my stove at home, but they look like fried eggs, so I assume I’m doing okay for now.

Mercedes laughs. “I like sunny-side up eggs, thank you. I enjoy baking sweets, but I don’t know how I’ll do with cooking other types of food.”

“Maybe you could help me make some Blessed Jelly with this Morfis plum I found? That’s a sweet, right?” I have no idea what Blessed Jelly looks or tastes like. I’m imagining it as like, a pink and sparkly Neopets jelly. 

“I can try,” Mercedes says kindly. 

So after our breakfast, we make a Blessed Jelly. Mercedes is a patient and skilled chef. She doesn’t yell at me when I mix up ingredients, and tells me stories about previous cooking adventures she’s had with the other Blue Lions. It’s easy to feel calm around her. I learn that she always wakes up early because she got used to that kind of schedule at the church she lived in before the monastery, and that she bakes different things for different moods.

In the game, the moment you finish cooking a food, all of your units get the stat boost for the whole month, but here, I have a giant pot of Blessed Jelly (apparently the Jelly is closer to a jam than an aspic in nature) and no idea how to transfer the +2 Luck to my kids. Do I just? Give them each a spoonful before my seminar this afternoon?

And Mercedes isn’t in my house, but she was so helpful with making the jelly in the first place I tell her to take as much of it as she wants. She takes a spoonful and says, “Delicious!”

Mercedes would be great in a yogurt commercial, I think out of nowhere. “What should I do with the rest of this jelly?”

“Put it in jars, of course! I’m sure the students in your house would appreciate some Blessed Jelly as well, I hear it makes whoever eats it a tad more lucky.”

“Is there a minimum required amount for that to work? How long do the effects last? How do you prove someone’s luck increased, actually?” Does the scientific method exist in this world???

Mercedes just laughs. I assume that’s a no on the scientific method, then.

“This was a very fun way to spend the morning, professor,” she says with a bow as we finally exit the kitchen carrying several jars each. (I insisted on splitting the jelly evenly, because Mercedes is the kind of nice that makes me want to give her things. I am gay.)

A thought occurs to me then. “What do you say about transferring to my class?”

“Hmm, well... I'm already having so much fun in my current class. Sorry to disappoint, but I'll have to decline.”

I wonder how many more times I’d have to spend with Mercedes to convince her to switch over. I should probably study reason more, too, I think she values that. I didn’t get Mercedes on my first run, but in the Azure Moon route she was an excellent healer. I mean, Marianne’s a great healer already, so I don’t  _ need  _ Mercedes, but...she’s nice and I like her, so.

At this point other students begin to trickle into the dining hall, and the dining staff for the day take over the space. Mercedes smiles and waves at me as she goes... somewhere. The cathedral? Back to her room? I don’t know.

Which reminds me! I should go to the cathedral and check the counseling box!

The counseling box does not give me three responses to pick the right one from, or attach a convenient silhouette of the person seeking advice to the note. I have to make up my own advice from my head, and guess who the person is based on the handwriting. And I have no idea if my responses help me Boost The Support Levels or not. On the bright side, no time limit!

The kids need an actual licensed therapist at this hell school, I think as I dump all the slips out of the box and start going through them one by one. 

“I’ve looked at the notes in this box before, and it seems like everyone’s always worried and complaining about stuff! Is everyone really that bad off?” Raphael’s large, round handwriting is already recognizable after just a week of teaching him. God, this kid is valid. Never change, Raph. I don’t remember what the right answer for this one is though.

_ Sothis, can you go through my memories to find me answering this question in the game? _

“That’s boring! And how am I supposed to pick out one specific moment from the hundreds of hours you wasted on this ‘game’ as you call it?”

_ Fine, be that way.  _ I let “It’s The End of the World As We Know It” play in my head, Sothis’s least favorite of all my brain music because it references a lot of things she doesn’t know and I keep switching the order of the verses because I don’t remember how it’s supposed to go.

“I wish you were the one asleep right now instead of Byleth,” Sothis growls. “What is a Lenny Bruce?”

_ Love you too. Now shush. _

I make up something for each of the advice box notes and remember I planted some seeds in the greenhouse a week ago, so I go there and collect my flowers and vegetables. I see Ashe in there. 

“Good morning, Ashe!”

“Oh, hello, professor! How’s it going?” 

Right, Ashe likes plants. “It’s going. Do you have any advice for what I should plant next?” I pull my seed packets out of my pockets of infinite depth for Ashe to examine.

He squints at it. “If you group similar plants together, you’ll have a greater yield... Why not try five Western Fodlan seeds this time, and see what you get?”

I smile at him. “That sounds great. I knew I could count on you.” I hand the seeds to the greenhouse keeper.

Ashe smiles back. “My adoptive father is the real expert. He taught me everything I know about herbs, including how to tell them apart and how to make medicines.”

“That’s really c— interesting.” I keep forgetting about the “no slang” thing here. “I’d be happy to hear more about it.”

I let Ashe teach me about gardening for a bit and then ask him to join my class. “I'm really flattered, honestly, but I still have a lot left to learn in my current one!" Goddammit! Sylvain I understand, but how the hell did I get Linhardt so easily if everyone else I’m asking personally is being this stubborn?

“It’s almost noon,” Sothis reminds me then. “You should eat something before your seminar starts.”

She does have a point. “I’m going to get food, do you want to come with?” I ask Ashe.

“Sure thing, I was going to take these tomatoes to the kitchens anyway,” he says, hefting a frankly unreasonably large basket. Apparently individual tomatoes can be stored in pockets, but if you would like to transport a large quantity of tomatoes at once you need a container for it. Nothing makes sense to me anymore.

So I help Ashe carry the tomatoes to the kitchens (despite his insistence that he can carry all that himself. I’m a professor, I’m supposed to be helpful!) and almost sit down to eat with him, when someone comes up behind me as I’m walking to the table.

“We missed you at breakfast today, professor,” Edelgard says reproachfully. Dimitri and Claude stand behind her, nodding in agreement. They look like they’re coming up to me during class time to ask a tangentially-related question. Ashe, meanwhile, is sitting with Dedue in the far corner of the room. 

Crap, I forgot to let anyone know I woke up unreasonably early today. I spend all this energy trying to force the three house leaders to bond with each other during mealtimes, and then stand them up for breakfast on the one day off we get! I am a terrible example and, possibly, a terrible person. 

“I’m so sorry, I woke up really early today and totally forgot we had plans,” I say honestly, adding a bow to show how extra sincere I am. “Would you like some Blessed Jelly to make up for it?”

“Maybe later,” Edelgard says, her shoulders relaxing a bit. “Don’t worry so much, it was an honest mistake.”

“You should feel free to eat whenever and with whomever you want,” Dimitri adds. 

“But we had plans!” We’d agreed that ten in the morning was a suitable breakfast time the night before!  _ Sothis, why didn’t you remind me!  _

“You didn’t ask me to remind you,” Sothis says primly.  _ Uuuuughhhhh. _

“Teach, it’s fine,” Claude cuts in. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. We had a perfectly civil meal without you as a buffer.”

“Oh. That’s great! Glad you’re all getting along.” 

So we eat lunch and I tell them about making jelly with Mercedes and gardening with Ashe. 

“Getting cozy with the Blue Lions, I see,” Claude points out. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of switching classes already.”

“What?! No! I just — I don’t see the students from the other houses as much during the week and — “ Claude raises an eyebrow at my protests, while Edelgard and Dimitri snicker into their hands.

“Whatever,” I snap, silently thankful Byleth’s body is less prone to blushing than my own. “Tell me about your mornings instead.”

I watch them talk. I wonder if the tension between Dimitri and Edelgard is going to ease up at all, if I keep forcing them to interact. Eventually they’ll have to talk about their respective tragic backstories, right? And maybe — okay Edelgard probably won’t be able to convince Dimitri to go to war against the Church, but —

I’m getting too far ahead of myself here. We’re still in the first month! What took an hour at most to play through seems to crawl past, but it’s still enjoyable in a different way.

Claude taps me on the shoulder. “We should get going.”

“Oh! Right, of course.” I jump up.

“Secret business?” Edelgard asks, eyebrows raised.

“Naturally,” Claude replies, with an exaggerated wink. “Dimitri, Edelgard, a pleasure as always.”

“See you later!” I add, waving.

“See you, professor. Bye, Claude.”

My lecture’s starting in another half hour, so I take the time to write out the Cyrillic alphabet on the blackboard, circling with different colored chalk the letters that look and sound like English letters, the letters that look like English letters but sound different, the rest of the vowels, and the Really Weird Ones. I’m a bit surprised colored chalk exists here, but relieved. 

Claude sits on my desk in a flagrant disregard for propriety, shouting out random questions to be a nusiance for some reason.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” I ask him. “Wait, yes you do. Give me some words it would be useful to know the R— Albinean words for.”

“Enemy,” he says immediately. “Attack. Retreat. Direction words in general. Hm... Landscape attributes? Like, hill, tree, fort... Fire. Weapons? House names.”

“That’s probably enough for day one,” I say, writing them all down next to the alphabet.

“What about swear words?”

“Day two.” Russian swearing is a whole Thing we definitely don’t have time to get into today.

The Golden Deer trickle in slowly around the agreed-upon time. Linhardt actually shows up first, only to crash into a desk at the front of the room and promptly start snoring. I ask Lysithea to sit next to him and smack him with a ruler if he dozes off while I’m talking. 

Even Sylvain comes. “What? I did promise to be a model student, didn’t I?”

I guess!

“So... Albinean,” I say. “In my youth, my father and I traveled through Albinea for a time, and I was fortunate enough to pick up the language well enough to be able to speak, read and write it. Claude thought it would be useful to teach you how to use this alphabet and language for coded communication, so that is what today’s seminar will be about!  _ Добро Пожаловать! _ ” 

Blank stares. 

“That means ‘welcome.’”

I think it goes pretty smoothly after that? Everyone takes notes and manages to write their names in Cyrillic without any problems. The Weird Letters are a sticking point as I expected, but they figure it out.

“This looks hideous,” Claude says, staring at the “ _ Клод _ ” on his paper. He adds “ _ вон Риган _ ” after it. “That doesn’t help. I wonder if... nah.”

“Thinking of a name change?” I ask him. His eyes widen a bit, and then narrow into a calculating expression. 

“Could be, could be,” is what Claude ends up saying. “What’s Albinean for ‘bow’ again?”

It’s... fun. Normally, when I share parts of my culture with people around me, I feel vulnerable and exposed. But I’m not me, and my country of birth doesn’t even exist here, so there’s nothing to be vulnerable about.

Lysithea and Linhardt are, predictably, very interested in learning to read another language and end up fighting over that dictionary Claude found in the library. I keep waiting for Linhardt to casually say something about Lysithea’s “two crests” situation to freak her out, but if he knows already, he at least has the decency to not discuss it in public.

I wrap things up around sundown. “Thank you all for coming today! I hope you enjoyed this diversion from your standard lectures. Get some rest.  _ До свидания! _ That means goodbye.”

I grab Lorenz on his way out of the classroom. "Lorenz! Can I borrow your tea set?"

"By all means. I have a spare set you may use at your leisure, professor. Let me get it for you."  


Lorenz runs up to his room and comes back with a very fancy-looking tea set and some small bags of mint and crescent moon tea. I'm touched he remembered my tastes.

"Thank you very much," I say, bowing deeply. "Your kindness is most appreciated." I cannot say anything about his noble nature without cracking up, but I can at least try to reflect his own way of talking.

"No trouble at all, I assure you." Lorenz waves me off, but he seems pleased.

And with that, I head off to the next point on my agenda: teatime with Edelgard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stole most of that first scene from [ this comic](https://twitter.com/luchie_hm/status/1234179514412019713?s=20), which is absolutely iconic  
> also: [a comic](http://ryanestrada.com/russian/index.html) abt how to read russian in 15 minutes if you're interested  
> still unbetaed. very surprised at the number of people actually reading this, especially people I don't know, but I appreciate all of you  
> isolation's doing. weird things to my productivity, so can't promise any kind of update schedule, sorry! but I'm having fun so far so I'll probably keep doing this until I run out of ideas. next chapter will have......plot??? ish???


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> teatime w/edelgard!

Well, first I go back to my room to make sure I can brew a decent pot of tea using the tools available to me, and strategize with Sothis about Edelgard. My room has a fireplace and a kettle in it I didn’t notice while playing, but it makes sense for winter, I guess? I start a fire (with some effort) and put the kettle over it.

“How much do I tell her?” I ask Sothis as I pace around the room waiting for the water to boil. “That I have visions of the future? That I know she paid those bandits to attack them and kill the other two house leaders? That I know she’s the Flame Emperor? She’d probably stab me right then and there!”

Sothis is floating upside down next to the fire. “Start with the bandit fact. It seems like something you could find out by asking around, especially since you have connections to other mercenaries through Jeralt, yes? But never mind that: why do you want her to know?”

“We’re facing that group of bandits again for our mission at the end of the month. She’s gonna talk to the leader guy in her Flame Emperor outfit and then I think kill him? I don’t remember that cutscene very well. Wait no, I think we kill him while fighting the bandits. Anyway, if I tell her I know she paid the bandits off... she might go out and kill the guy herself? Get Rhea to switch the missions so the beagles deal with the red canyon thing? Or maybe she will stab me after all!”

The kettle whistles, so I take it off the fire and pour some water into the empty teapot, rinsing it out. There’s no sink, so I just dump the hot water on the ground outside. Civilization. “I don’t know Edelgard well enough to predict what she’d do in this situation.” I did S-support her on Crimson Flower, but that doesn’t mean I know anything about her! 

“So focus on getting a closer bond with her this teatime, and then reevaluate next week. The mission’s at the end of the month, is it not? You have time.”

Right. Of course. This was always a problem for me in the past, I’d rush ahead to get things out of the way as quickly as possible and then need to be told to slow down.

Sothis watches me prepare a pot of Bootleg Earl Grey Tea the way my mother taught me.It’s Bootleg Earl Grey because I put in two spoonfuls of Seiros black tea and one of bergamot, then taste and add a bit more of the dried bergamot leaves. A spoonful of dried tea leaves for each person, a spoonful for the pot, steep five minutes under a cover and then marry the tea to the pot by pouring a little into a cup and then back into the teapot. I wonder if I didn’t know how to do this myself, would Byleth’s body do it for me? Have I brewed enough loose leaf in my life for this to be an ingrained habit?

I take a cautious sip and decide it’s good enough to bring to the teatime. It doesn’t taste exactly like what I drink every day at home, but it’s close enough to remind me. I hope Edelgard likes it too. She had agreed to bring the desserts while I bring the tea.

“It’s teatime! For Edelgard! And Fodlan! Is that how the song goes?” I say. 

I’m talking to myself mostly, since I know Sothis won’t get it, but Sothis throws her hands up in frustration and whirls around to face me. It might have been intimidating if she wasn’t four and a half feet tall. “Your mind contains 21 year’s worth of memories, books you’ve read, songs you’ve listened to, and all of this other nonsense I don’t even have the context to understand, and some of it is in _multiple_ different languages! I don’t have time to dig through your head to find whatever you happen to be referencing this time!”

“You’re right,” I realize. “It would be easier for you if you were dealing with actual Byleth, probably. Sorry.”

Sothis flaps a hand at me, waving off my concerns.“Get to the garden before you’re late!”

I go to the garden. I’ll have to figure out a good way to transfer more of my knowledge to Sothis later. And maybe like. Bond with her on a personal level. Right now it kind of feels like we’re randomly assigned partners on a group project neither of us really wants to complete.

But right now: bonding with Edelgard!

She’s sitting at a table in the garden where the Amiibo activator thing was in the game. I never used it since I was playing the whole thing on my friend Suyang’s Switch. Here, the gazebo looks like an ordinary gazebo. I guess the entrance to the holy tomb is underneath it or something? I can check later.

Anyway, Edelgard is sitting with her legs crossed at the ankles and arranging little tea cakes (biscuits? Cookies? Pastries? Sweet Snack Objects) on a three-tiered stand. It all looks significantly fancier than what I’m used to. I place Lorenz’s tea service and tray on the table and sit down opposite her.

“Good evening, Edelgard,” I say in the most polite voice I can manage. “Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” she replies, and darts a glance to another table behind her, angling her head in that direction. 

I look. Dimitri and Claude are also sitting and drinking tea, while not-so-subtly watching us.

I wave at Claude. Claude waves back. Dimitri looks embarrassed about it all.

“Was I supposed to ignore them?” I ask Edelgard, who looks... taken aback by my reaction.

“I thought you would at least pretend to do so,” she says. “While we’re on the subject, my retainer Hubert has concealed himself rather more skillfully behind the bushes over there.” Again, she doesn’t point but gently nods at the direction Hubert is hiding in. “Please pay them no mind.”

“I’ll try not to. Milk, cream, sugar, how do you take your tea usually?” Anyone who puts milk in their tea is either British or a heathen (including my dear friend Margarita, for whom this is her only character flaw) but Edelgard is a princess so she can get away with it.

“It depends on the tea,” Edelgard says instead, and sniffs it delicately. “Oh! Is that... it smells like bergamot, but also... something else?”

“My own blend. Please try it.” I think Edelgard’s favorite tea was bergamot, so I hope adding the black tea didn’t ruin it entirely.

She takes a sip. “This is interesting,” she says. “I don’t know if I prefer it to pure bergamot leaves.” Edelgard adds a spoonful of sugar to her cup, and stirs it slowly, methodically.

This tea party is already stressing me the fuck out. I wish I had the dialogue options floating in front of me so I’d know what to pick from, but it’s been a hot minute since I’d played her route and I don’t remember what she’s into anymore. Books, probably? Cats?

“I noticed there’s a cat who often sleeps in front of your room,” I hazard. “Is it... your cat?”

Edelgard’s lips quirk up in a smile. “She’s her own cat, but I do feed her fish from the dining hall on occasion.”

I’m reminded of that show I watched once, Russian Doll. “That son of a bitch belongs to nobody but yes, he’s my cat.” Edelgard and Nadia have quite a bit in common, now that I think about it. “That’s really nice of you,” I say. “Does she have a name?”

Edelgard turns abruptly very red at this, and looks away. She mumbles something.

“What?”

“...Fuzzball,” Edelgard says, a little louder.

Holy shit. 

_ Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh.  _ “That’s the cutest cat name I ever heard. When I was a child, we stayed for some time in a village where the neighbors had a cat named Belka, which means ‘Squirrel’ in Albinean.” In every lie a grain of truth.

“That’s a cute cat name too.” Edelgard smiles, a bit more warmly this time.

I want to get her talking about her past, but I feel like two week’s acquaintance isn’t enough time to get her to trust me that much. But I need to understand where she’s coming from with her whole “fuck the Church” ethos, from her perspective, and how I can convince her to go for her goals without... starting a war, collaborating with sketchy mole people, and getting her own classmates killed.

“What have you been reading lately?” I ask her.

She lights up and starts telling me about some book on the secession of the Leicester Alliance from the Empire. I try to pay attention, but I’ve never been very interested in politics. I have to be interested now, though.

“So do you think it’s better for the whole continent of Fodlan to be united as one country, or the way it is now, or fractured even further into smaller city-states?” I ask.

Edelgard frowns, thinking hard. “If a strong leader unified Fodlan, it would be easier to make major reforms to society as a whole.”

The first week of school and she’s already thinking about her master plan. Impressive. “But like you just said, the Empire fractured into Faerghus and the Leicester Alliance after some time, didn’t it? It’s hard to maintain control over a large territory.”

“Even a short-term unification of Fodlan would have lasting effects on the continent,” Edelgard says, taking a sip of her tea. “What do you think, professor?”

I wonder what support level I need to hit with the house leader kids to convey to them the idea that perhaps in addition to crests being bullshit, hereditary monarchy is also bullshit and they should switch to like... I don’t know, parliamentary democracy or something? It’s been a few years since I took AP Gov.

“I think I would like more tea,” Is what I end up saying.

Edelgard’s class is also going to fight bandits for their end of month mission, just not at the Red Canyon. It is kind of strange to me how many groups of bandits just exist in this world, ready for teenagers to beat them up. There were a few requests for students to go deal with bandits on the bulletin board I was going to have the Golden Deer do next week.

Oh jeez, am I going to have to actually kill someone? ... Did I kill people in that first bandit skirmish and not realize it? I don’t think I’m ready for that, emotionally. I’ll have to convince myself the actions of Byleth’s Fight-body are separate from my Nerd-brain. 

“Have you ever killed anyone?” I blurt out, accidentally interrupting Edelgard’s musings about battle tactics. 

Edelgard blinks at me. “No,” she admits. “...is it difficult?”

How the hell would I know! What would Experienced Mercenary Byleth say... 

I nod once. “I hope you don’t need to get used to it.” 

Edelgard looks thoughtful. I can’t tell if that was the wrong dialogue option or not.

At any rate, the pot of tea is soon empty, and the sky is shading from sunset purples to blue. Edelgard is frowning at the table. “Dinner will be served soon, and I ate so many sweet buns just now I probably won’t be very hungry...”

“You can just have some fruit or something at dinner if you want. It’s the time spent together that’s important.”

“Not keeping a balanced diet?” Edelgard raises an eyebrow at me, amused. 

I wave it off. “One missed meal won’t kill you.”

Dimitri and Claude are still sitting in the garden, but they’re deep in conversation with each other now instead of watching us. I kick Edelgard lightly under the table to get her attention, then push a tiny bowl of candied walnuts towards her. “Bet you a fish you can’t hit Claude with one of these from over here.”

“You’re on.”

After dinner, once I’ve returned several lost items to their owners and caught some more fish in the pond, I get ready for bed. Sothis hovers. 

“So... how do you get information from me?” I ask her. 

She blinks. “What kind of question is that?”

“Like, do you see and hear my thoughts as I think them? Can you dig through all my memories whenever you want, or do I have to be actively recalling a memory for you to be aware of it? Can you search my memories for specific words or images?”

“Hmm...” Sothis flips upside down to think on this further. “Mostly the first one, I think. You have a lot of things in your brain, but if you tell me the outline of something, I can pull up the information that fills it in. I share your knowledge of the potential futures of Fodlan because you wanted me to know.”

“Okay.” I sit down on the bed. “I think, for us to really work together here, I need you to know a lot more things.”

After I turn out the lights, it feels like the first night of sharing a dorm room with a stranger, trying to get to know each other by talking into the wee hours of the morning. Except Sothis has amnesia about her own past, besides the bits I already filled her in on. 

I tell Sothis about how I grew up, my friends and family, and the things I reference in my head most often. I talk about where I first heard each of the songs I keep playing for her, why I always have an image of teenagers running in a circle when I’m humming Istanbul (not Constaninople) or It’s The End of the World As We Know It. Sothis struggles to recall anything useful about her past, and, frustrated, falls asleep again.

I hope that helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is shorter than usual I am, as the kids say, straight-up not having a good time right now


	8. Chapter 8

The next week is easier now that I have the routine more or less figured out. I teach the students what I know, and what I don’t know I give them tips on how to self-study more efficiently. I teach my first Authority class, which Professor Manuela explains to me is basically a combination of public speaking and battle tactics. I make everyone practice projecting their voices and enunciating like I remember doing in my public speaking class in college. I’ll make the real grown-ups teach me battle tactics later.

“You need to learn Authority in order to lead battalions in battle. This is the Officer’s Academy, we’re training you all to be leaders, not followers. A big part of being able to lead groups is knowing how to speak to groups effectively. So today, you’re all going to take turns telling the class about something you’re passionate about. I’m sure you all have a topic you can talk about for five minutes without prompting, right?”

Poor Ignatz seems terrified at the very thought of it. I’ll start with him first. “Ignatz! Tell us about how to value a work of art!”

“Oh! Uh. Well, it depends on what kind of work it is...” I am relieved my plot works. Ignatz manages to explain art appreciation with only some stumbling, and his classmates cheer him on and clap when he’s done without me having to tell them to do it. They all seemed to bond very quickly even without my help, which is nice to see.

Getting Linhardt and Hilda to do anything in class is pretty much impossible, unless I happen to hit on some very specific thing they’re actually interested in and, in Hilda’s case, present it to her in just the right way to trick her into doing it. 

I make Linhardt tell the whole class about the book he was trying to read under the table from the back row of the classroom.

“So if we look at the Crests from the Empire and compare them to the lineage of Crests descended from the Ten Elites, we can conclude—” 

“Louder! What are the Ten Elites?”

Hilda manages to spend her entire five minutes recounting the gossip she heard at the market on our last free day. I can tell she’s trying to come off as shallower and sillier than she actually is, and it’s kind of infuriating. I want to know the real Hilda, dammit! I want the support conversations!!

“Is this how Captain Jeralt taught you Authority?” Leonie asks me after the class. I have a sudden urge to set up some kind of counter to keep track of how many times Leonie bring him up in front of me. We need to Talk about that, eventually. Maybe on the next free day.

“Captain Jeralt preferred to teach by example, rather than lecturing,” I said. That seems more his style to me. “I’ve learned from many teachers in my travels as a mercenary, and incorporate all of their lessons into my own.” I look at Leonie and hope I seem learned and mysterious. “If you put one person on a pedestal, you may end up blinding yourself to the many gifts other people offer you.”

Leonie looks thoughful. I wonder if that worked. Did motivation increase? I wish I could see the motivation meters.

Now that I’ve settled in a bit, I have some time after class to relax! Sort of. On Monday I end up helping Ignatz learn a new Combat Art with his bow, and on Tuesday we have a faculty and staff meeting, but on Wednesday, I get to go to the greenhouse and  _ vibe.  _

For like, twenty whole minutes. Do not talk to me, do not breathe on me, I am watering and weeding these plants. No one is asking me questions, no one is explaining things to me, I finally get a bit of space to be alone. I’ve missed this so much, I find myself humming a little tune as I pull the tiny sprouts the greenhouse keeper taught me to recognize as weeds out of the damp soil, watering can balanced carefully between my knee and the flowerbed. I don’t feel Sothis in my head waiting to make fun of me, so I allow myself to sing, very quietly.

“Professor! You sing when you garden too?!”

I drop the watering can. It spills all over the tile floor, water flowing down towards where Annette stands at the entrance to the greenhouse, gardening supplies in hand. “Fuck!”

Annette gasps. “Professor! Language!”

“Shit! I mean— ! I am so sorry.” I bow to make up for it.

Annette giggles. “Oh, I’m just teasing, I don’t mind that much. What were you singing about? Can I hear?”

I pick the watering can back up. It is, unfortunately, empty. I’ll have to refill it later. “Only if you share what  _ you  _ sing about when you’re gardening. It’s only fair.”

Annette pouts. “I just make up songs about whatever happens to be on my mind! I can’t sing on command, professor!” Her eyes light up suddenly, and she grins. “But maybe hearing you sing could inspire me! Pleeeeease? I want to hear it!”

“Ugh, fine.” I sing to myself and sing along with the music I’m listening to all the time, but I hate singing in front of an audience. If it helps establish rapport with Annette, though, I’m willing to try. “Istanbul was Constantinople, now it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople, been a long time gone, Constantinople, now it’s Turkish delight on a moonlight night... It’s uh. It’s a nonsense song... about places that don’t exist... that I just made up.” Sorry for the accidental plagiarism, They Might Be Giants. I’m not even a big They Might Be Giants fan, I only know a handful of their from my 6th grade science teacher and the summer camp I went to.

“It’s catchy,” Annette decides after a moment. “Is there more?”

We end up going through the whole song, Annette joining in on the repetitions. I even dance a bit, though I don’t know if my extremely cool and modern dance moves have anything in common with how people dance in Fodlan circa 1180. Annette, to my surprise, copies my movements, and we spin in a circle around the planters.

“So take me back to Constantinople—”

“Now it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople!”

“Been a long time gone, Constantinople, why did Constantinople get the works? That’s nobody’s business but the Turks!” 

Annette bursts into giggles. “Professor, where did you come up with this stuff?”

“I read a lot... I get bored sometimes... You know how it is. Anyway, you promised to sing in return!”

Annette makes a wide-eyed and entirely false expression of injured innocence. “Did I promise that? Well...”

“It’s only fair,” I remind her. “Besides, I read somewhere plants like it when you sing to them. Do it for the plants, Annette.”

“Well, if it’s for the plants, I guess I have to!” And I get treated to a live performance of Crumbs and Yums by Annette Dominic. I feel like the luckiest person alive. If only my internet friends could see me now.

Now that concert time’s over, Annette helps me weed the garden plots. “You know, you’re not at all like what I expected,” she told me. “Everyone said the mercenary coming to Garreg Mach was stoic and quiet, but you’re so... cheerful.”

I try to keep a neutral expression on my face, which is harder now than when I’d first woken up with this body. I guess I’m becoming more used to it or something? “I’ve been feeling pretty cheerful lately,” I admit. “Perhaps it’s the environment here at the monastery. Or the people.”

“That reminds me, your birthday’s tomorrow, isn’t it?” I continue. “Allow me to invite you to tea.”

“That sounds wonderful, I’d be happy to!” Annette finishes weeding and starts clipping yellowing leaves off plants for some reason or other. I don’t know anything about gardening, but she clearly does.

“While we’re on the subject, I would love to have you in my class, if you’re interested. I think you’d be a good fit.”

Annette freezes mid-snip. Half a leaf tumbles into the dirt. “There's still a lot I want to learn from my current class...” she says, but she looks clearly conflicted. “It’s just... it’s a bit early in the year for this, isn’t it? I’ve barely even gotten to know my classmates yet. Ask me again next month, okay?”

Huh. That was definitely not in her game script. I guess the bonding experience we just had was worth more than one support level. Annette’s personality is the closest to my own real-life personality, so I’m not too surprised we get along, but it’s still a relief. I don’t know how I’d handle it if a character I liked hated me. I can barely handle real-life people hating me.

For her birthday tea I make a pot of the Sweet-Apple Blend. 

“I love this tea! Is it a favorite of yours as well?”

In the game I always tried to agree with whoever was asking me questions to raise support points. But, talking to them in person makes me feel horribly guilty for lying about even small things, so I honestly say, “it’s alright, but I’m not partial to herbal teas.” 

I give Annette some flowers I picked in the greenhouse after she left the day before. 

“Thank you so much!”

Claude and Hilda are sitting at the exact same table Claude and Dimitri were sitting at to spy on my last tea time with a student. I guess this is going to be a recurring thing now. 

We chat about books and gardening and how there’s never enough hours in the day to do what we need to get done. Annette mentions there’s a magic concept she’s struggling with, and I suggest she ask Lysithea or Sylvain for help with it.

“Sylvain? Really?” Annette raises her eyebrows.

I nod. “Don’t let him fool you, he’s a genius who actually likes solving puzzles. I saw him playing a board game with Claude before class yesterday.” It made me feel like I was back in my fifth grade math class, where the boys played Risk during classtime. Surreal.

“Wow! I wish he was still in my class,” she sighs. “Mercie’s my best friend and everything, but she decided to focus on Faith only so like I  _ can  _ study with her, but we’re working on different stuff, and I don’t want to bug her too much by making her help me with stuff she doesn’t even need to know—”

“There will always be a place for you in my house if you want it,” I interrupt, “but I know Lysithea would be thrilled to have a study partner as motivated as you. You could ask her the next time you see her?”

I’ve been putting Lysithea, Linhardt and Sylvain together a lot because they’re all learning Reason, but it always ends with Lyisthea smacking Linhardt with a ruler to wake him up and Sylvain sneaking out early because of “other committments.” God, what a fuckboy. I’m going to let Lysithea work alone next class.

“Maybe I will! Thank you for the suggestion.” Annette beams. I am so profoundly relieved Annette likes me. 

The teapot is slowly emptied. Annette says “thanks for the treat!” and runs off to do whatever she does, while I march over to Claude and Hilda.

“Claude, with all due respect, what the fuck are you doing here.”

Hilda covers her mouth with one hand and raises her eyebrows, reminding me of a surprised emoji. Claude is completely unfazed. I guess he’s had enough time to get used to my way of speaking. “Can’t a guy have some afternoon tea with his dear friend?”

“Claude.” I have learned how to hold Byleth’s classic unimpressed expression for almost thirty seconds, so I just stare at him until he caves and fills the silence in. 

It works! Claude looks away, smiling ruefully. “It’s just... don’t you think it’s a bit strange, that you’re spending all this quality time witth students outside your house? You did choose to lead the Golden Deer for a reason, right? And yet you seem to be trying to bond with everyone except the Deer.”

Oh. When he puts it like that I feel kind of guilty, actually. “I see you all in class every day, but I barely get any time with the other houses during the week and I want to get to know everyone,” I point out. 

“Yeah, but  _ Professor, _ ” Hilda jumps in, an already familiar wheedle to her voice, “in class you’re all serious and trying to make everyone do work! It’s not fair if none of the Golden Deer get to know you off the clock like the other houses.”

Ouch. She has a point. “You’re right,” I admit. “Let’s do something fun this weekend, as a class. That isn’t me lecturing about a foreign language.”

“Can we do the foreign language lecture too?” Claude adds. “You promised swear words on day two.”

“I can’t believe you remember that, but sure. You’re the house leader, come up with an activity.” 

“On it.” Claude salutes. It’s cute.

My second Free Day goes more smoothly than the first. At least this time Sothis doesn’t wake me up at the crack of dawn. In fact, she’s been strangely quiet lately. I don’t hear her complaining about my every move as often as I’d gotten used to. I get up at a normal hour and eat a normal breakfast with the three house leaders. After breakfast, Claude and I discuss the plans while walking to the greenhouse so I can check on my plants.

“So, Claude, have you thought of something fun for today?” 

“I’ve come up with a few ideas. One: picnic lunch on the hill behind the monastery. It’s nice out today, why not take advantage of the weather?”

I nod. “I like that, but if we want to do that today it’s kind of short notice for everyone. What else?”

Claude starts ticking off ideas on his fingers. “Scavenger hunt, also short notice and requires a lot of planning, but would be very fun. Prank war between the three houses, same issue. ...Book club? But we don’t have that many readers in our house...”

I take a moment to mourn the fact that movies and video game tournaments are not even possibilities for bonding activities in this world, and also, that we only get one entirely free day a week. “Why don’t we plan a picnic for next weekend? I’ll announce it at the end of the seminar. And then we can discuss other ideas for activities.”

“Fine by me.” Claude throws up his hands. “I’ll see you at lunch, Teach. Got plans of my own for now.”

“So mysterious,” I tease, and then wave him off.

I complete most of the “quests” on the bulletin board for this week, but a few are snapped up by other students and monastery people, which never happened in the game. I miss having protagonist powers. Seteth requests some help clearing bandits in what I assume is the equivalent of an auxilary battle, but I don’t want to send the kids out before they even have their first mission at the end of the month. Time passes so, so slowly here when it’s synced to the real world. I can’t believe this took me like, an hour tops on my first playthrough. It’s been multiple human weeks!

Everyone shows up to my seminar again this week. Even Hilda, who Claude has to drag in while saying something about how she needs to know all the secret codes too. Linhardt is already sleeping on top of two desks shoved together when I walk in, but I wake him up and make him write out the alphabet on the board for me to see if he retained anything. He nails it, which I’m pleasantly surprised about. I guess he really can excel when he’s interested in something. He writes out the words I’d covered last week as well.

“Are you going to cover Albinean grammar at all, or do I have to try to track down my own sources?” Linhardt asks me, sounding already exhausted at the prospect. “Because that’s so much effort.”

“Well, the focus here is on utilizing the language for coded communication, not fluency, so I wasn’t intending to teach grammar,” I explain. Not to mention that I don’t know enough about Russian grammar to begin with. My mom was always correcting me for using English grammatical structures on Russian words. I add some new words to the blackboard. “If you’re really curious I can write out some short passages I have memorized and you can try translating them with your dictionary.” By short passages I mostly mean “lyrics to children’s songs about potatoes,” but I’m sure that’s still good translation practice.

“Please do,” Linhardt says immediately.

I point at him with my chalk. “Only if you promise to show up to class and actually pay attention for the entirety of next week. Note that I’m only asking for a week, not the rest of the year.” 

Linhardt sighs and sits down at the front of the class. 

The students are more or less used to me and my style of instruction by now, so class is fine. We review the stuff from last week and the new words I’ve added, and Lysithea reminds me about the swearing, so I talk about  _ mat _ . I don’t know if Albinean has loanwords from a foreign language used exclusively for the rudest form of profanity, but Russian does, so I just omit the fun fact about the origins of the words and go over them as briefly as possible. 

Claude raises his hand, which he only does when he thinks he’s being funny. Most of the time he just calls out. “Professor, can you give us some examples of using these words in a sentence?”

“That would be highly inappropriate. Oh, but that reminds me! What do you all think of having a picnic lunch on the hillside next weekend?”

“Good food and good company? Sounds perfect!” Raphael booms. He is doing his best.

“I’ll make sure there’s tea and sweets,” I add, because Lorenz and Lysithea seem unconvinced, “and there’s some lovely views of the landscape for sketching, and..... Birds? Probably? Marianne you like birds, right?”

“H-how did you know?” Marianne whispers.

Oh right, I haven’t really had any one on one conversations with Marianne yet. Or seen her talk to birds. She’s so quiet, it’s hard to notice her if you’re not actively looking for her presence. “Intuition. Come on, it’ll be fun!”

Everyone eventually agrees. Lorenz stops me on my way out the door to ask me if I’ve been using the tea set. “I have, and it’s been very useful. Thank you again for your kind gift.”

“It is a noble’s duty to help those in need,” Lorenz declares. “Er, not that you’re in need, necessarily—”

“I got it. Thanks.”

We end up chatting about teapot shapes for a good few minutes, and it remind me of a conversation I had with my mom shortly before I became the protagonist of an isekai anime.

Which makes me realize something: this is the longest I’ve ever gone without calling or texting my mother at all. Not even when I was studying abroad on the other side of the planet from her did I go this long without contacting her, and knowing that I can’t reach her even if I wanted to... Well.

I leave Lorenz behind and go to the lake to fish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tfw I just realized we're almost 30k words in and we still haven't gotten to the first real mission yet... this is why I usually do one-shots. this is the longest thing I've ever written w/zero outlining and that probably explains a lot


	9. Chapter 9

Fishing is nice because  _ I _ don’t have to do it. I can sit down at the end of the dock and let my own mind wander, while Byleth’s experienced arms reel in the line at the perfect moment every time. Eventually we run out of bait and our bucket is full of shiny wet fish, and then we deliver the fish to the dining hall and go about the rest of our day. It’s like meditating, almost.

This time though, Byleth’s muscle memory just cast a line when I hear thundering footsteps behind me. “Hey kid, can I talk to you for a second?” 

I ignore Jeralt and wait for the fish to bite. That’s what Byleth would do, right? Stoic and kind of weird is the leading characterization for her that I’ve seen. There’s a tug on the line, and I count prime numbers while Byleth pulls the fish out of the water and into the bucket. Plop!

Only then do I turn around. “What is it?”

“Just checking in,” he says innocently. “It’s been two weeks. Are you enjoying teaching?”

I nod. Stoic and quiet, stoic and quiet. But wait, I have a different personality here, so maybe I need to like average out my personality and whatever Byleth used to be like? “It’s interesting,” I end up saying.

“Glad to hear it.” He pats me on the shoulder hard enough to dislocate something if Byleth’s body wasn’t already used to this sort of treatment. “You have that mission at the end of the month, right? How do you feel about it? Do you want to take some of our mercenaries with you?”

Oh right, Byleth’s starting battalion in the game was Jeralt’s Mercenaries. Hmm. I don’t know how Battalions work in practice. Are they just going to hang back until I whistle for them or something? ... is there a way for me to find out without revealing that I am, in fact, a fake Byleth?

Fuck it. “That would be helpful. Thank you.” I don’t know if I should bow or not. 

“You should come out drinking with us on your next free day, for old time’s sake. The guys say they miss you.”

That reminds me, what the hell has Sothis been doing all day? Is she napping?  _ Hey, Sothis, hello??? _

“I’m busy, do not disturb,” I hear her voice snap in the back of my mind. Well, glad she’s still in there at least.

Right, Jeralt said something. “Ah... I have plans with my house for next weekend. Maybe after the mission,” I say. I desperately don’t want to go out drinking. I can’t stand the taste of alcohol and I can’t risk accidentally spilling my secret under the influence. But I mean... Father-daughter bonding or whatever...

Jeralt just nods, accepting my excuse. “After the mission, then. I’ll hold you to that, so don’t forget.”

I nod as well. I feel like I’m nodding a lot in this conversation, but I don’t trust myself to really speak without blowing my cover.

Jeralt smacks me on the shoulder again. “See ya around, kid,” he says, and walks off to wherever he came from.

I wait until he’s out of view, and sit down on the dock with a sigh of relief. Okay, Jeralt-interaction-quota fulfilled for at least another week. I kick Byleth’s legs back and forth, thinking about what to do next. What is Sothis doing, anyway?

“I’m almost done! Have patience, child,” Sothis says, sounding distracted. “It’s almost dinnertime now, go eat.”

Sothis doesn’t speak to me again until after I’ve changed for bed that night and am about to extinguish the candles in my room. She’s hovering over my desk as usual, eyes closed and frowning in concentration. 

Her eyes pop open, and she beams. “I have finished my work,” says Sothis.

“... what work are you referring to?” 

Sothis flings both of her arms up in the air and does a flip. “I have spent the past several days collecting and organizing information from both your brain and Byleth’s brain so you’d stop confusing me with all your references. And I have accomplished this task!” This is the most smug I’ve ever seen her, which is saying a lot.

I stare at her. “Didn’t you say there’s too much junk in my head for you to deal with all of it, like, a few days ago?”

“I didn’t say I sorted  _ all _ of the information you know, but I  _ have _ pulled out your important memories relating to Fodlan lore and this Fire Emblem Three Houses game you played, as well as everything you know about such games and technologies in general. And from Byleth, I pulled out all her memories of using weapons, commanding battalions, and being a good mercenary. Think of it as rearranging a stack of papers so the important papers are now on top for easy access.”

She does a twirl. “I can now serve as your Google. Go on, ask me something.”

Sothis knows what Google is now, huh. That’s not weird at all. “Okay... what’s the difference between a longbow and a regular bow?”

Sothis closes her eyes for a few seconds, then opens them again and tells me, “A longbow has a greater range than a standard bow. In your game, the longbow could hit enemies from three squares away. Here, it can hit from up to a hundred yards away.”

“A hundred yards! What! That’s a whole football field’s worth of space!” The game interface compressed space a lot, huh.

“I know what a football field looks like now,” Sothis informs me proudly, “and I am not impressed by this concept.”

I move to pat her on the shoulder, but my hand goes right through her spectral body. “It’s okay, I’m not either. This is amazing, though. Good job.”

“I know.” Sothis smiles, and it seems a bit more genuine than the other smiles I’ve seen from her. “I’m going to think about plans for dealing with Edelgard’s plot and the Agarthans while you sleep, so rest well, not-Byleth. You can put the candles out now, by the way.”

“Thank you.” I put out the candles. “I know this was a lot of effort on your part, so I’m very grateful you went through with it.”

“If we’re sharing a brainspace and a body, we might as well work together,” Sothis tells me, her voice echoing through my head. “And now I can understand how you think a little better after digging through all of the nonsense in your mind.”

I can’t see her anymore, but I can imagine her stretching out like a cat before curling up for a nap. “What’s that song you know that goes like this?” She hums a few bars I recognize immediately. “It was in your head earlier.”

“That’s a Russian song called ‘A Man and a Cat,’” I sigh, and try my best to remember it.

Most of the Russian songs I know have been in my head since before I knew what they were called, from hearing my family sing them at different times. “Sothis, did you ever have a mother, or did you just kind of spring into being fully formed?”

Sothis is silent for a moment. “I still can’t remember,” she admits. “But I don’t want to think about that now. Do the song louder.”

I try to make the music in my head louder, whatever that means. 

The next week, I’m cleaning up in the Golden Deer classroom after class ends when I hear voices outside. I put down the stack of textbooks on my desk and carefully peek out the door.

“Hey Lorenz, got a minute?” Leonie’s asking, arms full of old weapons from storage. Wait, I think I remember this. It’s their C support conversation!

So that’s how unlocking support conversations works in this world! I have to eavesdrop on people like a creeper. 

Maybe I should just estimate how close different pairs of characters are based on how they interact on purpose in front of me, and not how they talk to each other when they don’t know I’m there. At any rate, I mostly remember what this conversation was about, so I return to my textbook stacks without too much worrying.

There’s a clanging noise as Leonie dumps the weapons in Lorenz’s arms. “Let’s get to it then, buddy!” I love Leonie.

“Ngh,” Lorenz responds. 

I take one last look around the classroom (clean enough) and go outside to help Lorenz before he keels over from the weight of actually carrying things.

“Leonie’s fun, isn’t she?” I say cheerfully, taking half of the swords.

Lorenz scowls. “She has no respect for nobility at all.”

“Good for her,” I say without thinking. Or, I am thinking, but I’m thinking of that meme image of the lady from Arrested Development instead of the pseudomedieval fantasy world I am currently in. Poor Lorenz drops the rest of the weapons on the stone tiles of the courtyard. 

“Be careful,” I say, and scramble to help him pick them up.

“What did you mean by that, professor?” Lorenz demands, as we head up the stairs to his room. I’m kind of surprised he decided to bring all these old weapons to his personal room and not dump them in the training hall or something, but I’m going along with it.

_ Sothis, any ideas on what I meant by that?  _

Sothis gives me a thumbs up and sticks her tongue out over Lorenz’s head. I’m being haunted by a nuisance.

“Well,” I begin, “here in the Officer’s Academy, commoners and nobles alike are studying together, as equals, correct? While you’re all classmates, you should treat each other equally, is what I believe.”

Lorenz stops walking and tilts his head at me. “That’s an unusual way of thinking, professor. But it’s rather naive, isn’t it? The Officer’s Academy is supposed to prepare us all for the future, whether as politicians, knights, soldiers, and us nobles are destined for entirely different futures than our common classmates. Would it not be best to act in a way that prepares us all for our life after we graduate?”

I shrug. “You never know how much the world could change by the time that comes.”

He raises his eyebrows, but lets the subject drop, and we get the weapons to their destination in relatively companionable silence. 

I remember the C-support with Lorenz was Byleth confronting him about complaints the female students made about him, but we’re almost three weeks into this and no one’s talked to me yet. Maybe I should bring it up before it becomes a real problem, but I’d have to think about how to approach the topic for more than three seconds. I can’t just be like “hey, do you think your obsession with finding an ideal wife to continue your family line is an expression of compulsory heterosexuality” out of nowhere.

Maybe after everyone gets bored with the Albinean seminars I can do a Gender Studies 101 lecture. Haha.

Lorenz bows. “Thank you for your help, professor.”

“Just doing my job,” I say, and shove my now-empty hands into my pockets to suppress my sudden urge to do weird hand gestures.

I walk back to my room thinking about the state of LGBT identities in Foldan, anyway. There were same-sex paired endings in the game, so I guess gay people are a known entity in this world? But it’s probably less acceptable for nobles who have to make Crest babies to continue their bloodline and all that... Maybe there’s something about this in the library.

I hear a thud as I pass Bernadetta’s door. I have seen Bernadetta in class exactly twice since the first day. I think she’s scared of me, but she’s scared of everyone. And unlike in the game where I could throw gifts and invite her to cook with me every free day until I got B support, actual Bernadetta can say no. 

“Is everything alright in there?” I ask anyway.

“I’m fine! Everything’s fine! Don’t come in!” Bernadetta squeaks.

“...Do you want this armored teddy bear I found the other day?”

The door creaks open a sliver. Bernadetta’s hand darts out, grabs the bear out of my hands, and slams the door shut again.

“Thank you,” she mumbles through the door.

... Perhaps I need a more aggressive approach.

“Would you be interested in joining an art club with me, Ignatz and Dedue?” I overheard Ignatz talking about sketching  _ en plein aire _ the other day, and jumped at the chance to make it an organized thing. Mostly because before landing in the body of a mercenary, I was a cartoonist, and I’ve missed drawing as much as I used to. I asked Dedue because I remembered he likes arts and crafts, and I wanted at least one person from each house in this club. Inter-house bonding!

“...an art club? With people?”

“Maybe some other people too, they’re just the ones I’ve talked to already. We’ll just meet up at the front gates and then go to a nice location to draw trees for an hour or so once a week.”

Bernadetta is silent. 

“You won’t have to talk to anyone if you don’t want to,” I add. “I don’t know how well you know them but Ignatz and Dedue are pretty quiet.”

“Can I think about it?” Bernadetta says eventually.

I relax. It’s better than a hard no. “Of course. Our first planned meeting is after classtime on Friday. No pressure either way.”

“Thank you,” Bernadetta says quietly. 

I nod, even though she can’t see me, and say, “I’ll leave you be now. Have a good night, Bernadetta.”

“You too, professor!”

It’s really frustrating that I’m not in Bernadetta’s house, or on an equal level with her as a student. I’m a pro at making friends with shy people, from my friend Phoebe who couldn’t say two words in front of me for the first year of our acquaintance to my quieter classmates I met at college. But it is super weird for a professor who isn’t even your professor to try and make friends with you!

“You don’t need to be friends with Bernadetta if you want to get her into your house,” Sothis points out. “Just show her you can be good at teaching her archery.”

“See, logically I know that, emotionally I need everyone to like me,” I explain.

"That's stupid," Sothis sniffs. "Focus on what actually matters."

I roll my eyes. "Thank you, Sothis."

"You're welcome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok NEXT chapter, we will have... more character interactions probably and then finally the first mission fghjhgfgk  
> can you tell I didn't play this game for the battles....


	10. Chapter 10

After class lets out on Friday, Ignatz and I walk over to the front gates, where we make small talk with the gatekeeper while we wait for Dedue and maybe Bernadetta to join us. The gatekeeper is just as fun as he was in the game. He promises to show us his sketches when he’s off-duty. 

Ignatz seems on edge, and I realize I’ve barely interacted with him outside of class at all. I was never a big fan of him while playing the game, but I can appreciate his artistic inclinations at least.

“What do you like to draw?” I ask. 

Ignatz startles, like he wasn’t expecting me to address him. “Oh! Um, anything... landscapes, flowers, portraits... I want to capture the beauty I see around me,” he mumbles.

I try to smile genuinely at him. “That’s a great way to view the world.”

“It’s not that special, really,” Ignatz starts immediately, and I remember exactly why I wasn’t a big fan of him: he reflects all of my worst qualities like a funhouse mirror. I want to shake him and tell him to stop doing that, dammit. 

“Stop that,” I say, sharply enough that he flinches. “Try to accept compliments when they’re given. Don’t talk poorly about yourself, it will only make your self-esteem worse.”

Ignatz nods. “I’ll... work on that, professor.”

“Good.” 

Even though it’s been almost a month since I’ve arrived, I still reach into my pocket for the phone I don’t have to try and check the time. No one wears watches here, relying on the monastery’s bells to keep track of the quarter-hours. It makes everything feel slower somehow, not knowing the exact minutes or seconds. Sometimes I miss the sound of a ticking clock.

“Greetings, professor,” Dedue comes up behind us, carrying a large drawing pad and a leather roll of pencils and charcoal. I nod. With Dedue, I’ve found that quiet is the best approach. 

“Should we wait a bit for Bernadetta?” Ignatz asks. I nod again.

“Is there anyone else you can think of that would like to join this club?” I ask them. “I heard Edelgard enjoys drawing...” though I can’t tell them who I heard that from, because I learned that from the Crimson Flower route. 

“Maybe Flayn?” Ignatz suggests. 

“But then Seteth would probably insist on accompanying her, or sending a knight... I don’t think he trusts me very much still.” I didn’t get many supports with Seteth on my playthroughs, so I’ve been avoiding him as much as possible here. I just don’t know how to interact with that dude. 

We stand there in a pensive silence for what might be another minute or two before Bernadetta comes up the steps from the pond side. She stops halfway up and turns around, before changing her mind again and finally making her way to our group. 

Bernadetta holds her leatherbound journal in front of her face like a shield. “It’s just sitting and drawing, right? No talking?”

“No talking,” I affirm. 

She takes a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll come. Just this one time, though!”

“We’re happy to have you,” Ignatz volunteers. He’s so disgustingly earnest.

The four of us make our way through the market street to a hill I’d scouted earlier, one with a good view of the monastery and surrounding environment. I pull out the picnic blanket I acquired for the Golden Deer Bonding Event and spread it out so no one has to sit on the dirt. 

After that, it’s peaceful, the only sounds being birdsong in the trees and the scratching of pencils on paper. I miss my pen collection desperately, I haven’t sketched a landscape in pencil like this in years. But I’ve always found drawing environments like this to be calming, and it’s calming now in a way nothing has been since I woke up here. For an hour, I feel like myself, instead of Me-Pretending-to-be-Byleth. 

Ignatz draws a wildflower a few feet away in tight, meticulous detail that reminds me of my drawing professor from college. Dedue blocks in the long late afternoon shadows over the monastery in broad strokes from the side of his pencil. Bernadetta’s drawing with her arm wrapped around her notebook so I have no idea what’s happening there, but she seems to have relaxed a bit.

“Oh, that looks nice,” Ignatz says, looking over at my paper pad. 

I feel like he’s just saying it to make me feel better, but I am trying to set a good example so I say “Thank you, your drawing is beautiful too.”

Ignatz peers at Dedue’s page. “Oh! I like the texture of the grass and stones, it’s very pleasing to the eye.

Dedue’s drawing style reminds me of the Impressionist charcoal sketches I’ve seen in museums before, but I don’t know if they had an Impressionist artistic movement here. “I like the texture too,” I end up saying. “It’s so dynamic.” I wonder if Dedue can get chalk pastels here... maybe Ignatz knows. Dedue could do some cool stuff with those.

Even though I didn’t really plan for it, we end up sitting in a circle and having a mini-critique kind of session. Or compliment session, since this isn’t a serious art class and we’re all just having fun. 

Bernadetta, after watching us for a bit, slides her journal along the blanket into the middle of our sharing circle. “ _ Don’t _ flip to any of the other pages,” she says. “But uh... is this... good?”

Bernadetta had drawn a wyvern, flying high over the landscape. I hadn’t seen any wyverns fly past while we were sitting, but I suppose I haven’t really been looking for them. She drew the dragon with the loose yet precisely accurate marks of someone who has spent a significant amount of time practicing drawing this very creature.

_ Wow, that’s super on brand, _ I can’t help but think. “That’s so detailed!” I say. “It really looks like a wyvern. I love this.”

Bernadetta yanks her journal back to her chest and turns away. “You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not! I mean it.” She doesn’t seem to believe me. This is frustrating.

We start walking back to the monastery. The sun is setting, and I can faintly hear the monastery bells signaling that it is a quarter to... some hour. Not sure which hour.

“Um, professor?” Ignatz asks timidly.

“What’s up?” 

“...could we try painting next week?” I tilt my head curiously at him. It doesn’t look like that’s what Ignatz wanted to ask, but he follows it up with “I mean, I like drawing, but I prefer painting, so.”

“Of course, bring whatever materials you want!” I didn’t get many of Ignatz’s supports when I played Golden Deer, but I remember he was insecure about his art because his parents disapproved of it or something. I can relate to that. But not as Byleth, the mercenary-turned-teacher following directly in her father’s footsteps. How frustrating.

“You’ve established yourself as a hobbyist artist now, so speak from that experience,” Sothis points out helpfully. Thanks, Sothis.

Ignatz lets out a breath. “Professor...you don’t think making art is a waste of time, right?” He shoots a quick look at Dedue and Bernadetta, who don’t seem to be paying attention to this conversation.

“If I did, I wouldn’t have organized this.” Ignatz needs encouragement, Bernadetta needs reassurance, and Dedue... I don’t really understand Dedue yet, I think. I need to be careful about how I phrase this.

“I understand you’re all training to be soldiers and military leaders in some way, so you might believe that art isn’t relevant to that. But it’s important to take care of the mind as well as the body.” Bernadetta looks up at this. Emboldened, I keep going. “Doing something that relaxes you, and that you enjoy doing in your spare time is necessary to stay healthy. Not to mention that drawing helps improve your spatial reasoning and fine motor skills...”

“Space...what?” Ignatz echoes. Dedue is nodding along thoughtfully. 

Right, Fantasy Middle Ages, limited science. “I mean, drawing from observation helps you learn to observe what you see better, and using your hands for drawing will keep you from spraining them from holding the same weapon for too long.” I can’t cite scientific research to back this up or anything, but I sound reasonably confident saying it, and it’s not like these kids are going to argue, right?

“Anyway, drawing is fun and good and I support you all doing it,” I summarize. Bernadetta laughs, then looks mortified at herself for doing so.

“Thank you, professor,” Ignatz says quietly.

I resist the urge to make any kind of weird hand gestures. “Just doing my job.”

We go back to that hill for the Golden Deer Special Bonding Picnic on the next free day. Linhardt and Hilda both promptly decide it’s time for a nap under the shade of the big tree. It makes me wish they’d had supports together in the game. The level of craftiness required to be as lazy as either of them is truly awe-inspiring sometimes. 

Lysithea baked a veritable mountain of pastries, while Raphael has obtained what appears to be the entire contents of the monastery kitchens. For his birthday the week before, I’d invited him to tea outside and gifted him a fancy cheese I found at the market. Lorenz arranges the plates and folds the napkins according to whatever counts as table manners in this universe while Leonie and Ignatz arrange the food. The rest of us kind of hover uncertainly, wanting to be helpful without crowding the more proactive people.

“This was a great idea, professor,” Sylvain says. “Nothing like a meal in the outdoors on such a lovely day.” It really is a nice day: we’re approaching the end of May (I mean, Harpstring Moon), the sunshine is warm and the wind is nice and breezy. 

Claude is watching Linhardt and Hilda with a contemplative expression that I have learned means nothing good. 

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, consider not doing that,” I suggest.

Claude looks at Sylvain. “What would be funnier, wake them up now, or mess with them while they’re asleep and then wake them up?”

Sylvain assumes a mockingly thoughtful pose reminding me of the thinking emoji. “Well, that depends on how you intend to mess with them, of course.”

“P-please don’t hurt Hilda,” Marianne whispers. 

“I’m not gonna  _ hurt  _ her,” Claude scoffs. “Just embarrass her a little.”

“No embarrassing! Just wake them up in a reasonable manner. Or leave them alone, it’s not a big deal.”

“But Teach, shouldn’t the whole class be participating in our class bonding activity?” Claude asks.

“Can’t you people get anything done?” Lysithea snaps. She stomps over to Hilda carrying the jug of cold water. 

Time slows down as she slowly tilts the jug towards the sleeping students, and I run to catch up. “I said REASONABLE!”

The jug falls, Hilda and Linhardt both splutter awake, and Lysithea retreats to a safer distance looking extremely proud of herself. 

“Was that really necessary?!” Hilda yells.

“I tried to stop her,” Claude says immediately, and Hilda gives him a look that says she doesn’t believe a word of it. 

I wonder if I should apologize, as The Adult in this situation, but I don’t really know what I should say. “...Do you want cake?” is what ends up coming out of my mouth. 

Hilda glares at me.

“There is cake,” I add, uselessly.

Linhardt yawns, more sleepy than annoyed for the time being. “I’ll have some cake, but I must urge you all to avoid such methods for waking me up in the future.”

After that, the picnic/party continues more or less smoothly, with everyone participating at least a little and enjoying the food. It’s nice. Relaxing.

So of course I have to ruin it by bringing up the mission, which is in less than a week now. 

We’ve been working hard in class, studying tactics and practicing fighting. I had to urge everyone to take the mission seriously, even if it’s “just some bandits” and not, for example, the giant demonic beast form of an ancient immortal being. I don’t know how I feel about possibly having to kill people, even though they’re not exactly innocent bystanders. But Byleth is an experienced mercenary with probably an extensive bodycount, so I can’t let any of my real anxieties show.

“Do you all feel ready? For your first official mission?” I ask.

Reactions are mixed. 

“Bring it on!” Raphael cheers.

“I can handle it,” says Lysithea.

Marianne winces. She shouldn’t be worried at all, she was great in the mock battle and keeping up well in class. 

“We’ll do great,” Claude says in his Confident House Leader Voice. “We’ll teach all of the bandits in Fodlan to FEAR THE DEER!”

“Fear the deer!” I cheer.

The party ends, we pack up the leftovers and dishware to take back to the kitchen, and I gently encourage everyone to spend the rest of their free day resting up. We’ll spend tomorrow double-checking equipment and going over the tactics I picked up from Jeralt’s primer, and then the knights should get back with word of where the bandits are soon after that. 

“Do you think you’re ready?” Sothis asks, once we’re back in my room.

“Physically? Yes. Emotionally? Not at all.”

Sothis is quiet, hovering next to me while I set the teakettle on the fire. “Taking a life in battle is... something you will have to become accustomed to, if you want to avoid raising suspicion about your identity.”

I dump two teaspoons of crescent moon tea into Lorenz’s teapot and cover them with the boiling water. “It’s different when it’s a game and they’re just 3D models with generic faces! But these are people...”

“Bandits,” Sothis corrects me. “Thieves and possibly murderers themselves. Criminals. Do they really deserve to live?”

“Hey, in your reshuffling of everything I know and experience, did you get to this thing called Death Note?”

“I don’t see what a cartoon you liked when you were twelve could have anything to do with this,” Sothis sniffs. 

I laugh. “Never mind.”

The tea smells nice, not like oolong but like something else I can’t quite place. There might be jasmine in it, or some other herbal flavor I’ve never tasted before. “Sothis, can you smell things in your state?”

Sothis sighs and floats towards the ceiling. “Alas, no. But I appreciate the thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very normal things I’ve done while writing this “low-stress for-fun fan fiction”: go through several pages of Character/Quotes and Character/Supports on the fire emblem wiki to see if people in fodlan say “what’s up” or if that would be anachronistic (fortunately sylvain says it if you try to recruit him without meeting his requirements, therefore it can be safely assumed ppl say that sometimes)  
> Also. I forgot raphael’s birthday was in this month. Bad professor!  
> ...NEXT chapter... will be the first battle... I should probably stop promising things this isn't outlined and every sentence is pure improv but it's! fun!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> battle!

The mission doesn’t happen first thing in the morning, thankfully. We get to eat a normal breakfast before the knights return from their scouting and report that they have located the bandits the Golden Deer are supposed to fight in the Red Canyon. 

“Are you prepared for your missions?” I ask Edelgard and Dimitri, over scrambled eggs on toast. The food here reminds me of food at college: good, but not quite home. 

Dimitri nods. “Our mission seems... peaceful, compared to fighting thieves. I believe we can handle it.”

“Now, don’t get  _ too _ jealous,” Claude jokes, reaching across the table for the jam.

“I’m not jealous!” Dimitri protests. “But... I do hope we can get some combat experience out of our mission as well.”

Edelgard is quiet. I wonder if she knows we’re facing Kostas. If she even remembers him, or if he was just some useless bandit leader to her Flame Emperor self.

Jeralt finds me after the knights leave. “I can’t come with you, but I talked to the mercenaries and a few of them are willing to serve as your battalion. And there’ll be knights from the Church too, in case anything goes wrong.”

I nod, trying to keep Byleth’s face blank. Jeralt seems to read something in it anyway, and puts his hand on my shoulder in a comforting manner. “You have nothing to worry about.”

I nod again. “Thank you,” I say quietly. “I should go... catch up with my students.”

“Hey, Teach. Glad you could make it,” Claude says, as I run up to the group in the Entrance hall. “We've been waiting on you.”

Unlike for the mock battle, this time everyone is carrying real, sharp metal swords and lances and bows. I put a small leather shield on Lysithea so she doesn’t keel over in battle in one hit.

Everyone is chatting excitedly, determined to do their best and give it all they’ve got. (Well, almost everyone, Marianne still seems convinced she’ll just let everyone down and Linhardt is treating this whole thing like it’s worse than Saturday chores.) It’s cute.

“If we fight half as well as we chatter, we'll be fine,” Claude finally interrupts, putting a stop to the talking. He gestures at me with a wide, friendly smile. “C'mon, Teach. Lead the way.”

The Red Canyon isn’t too far away. Further than wherever we had our mock battle, if I’m remembering it correctly, but it’s still less than an hour’s walk, and the conversations make the time pass faster. 

“So, we are taking children into battle, are we?” Sothis grumbles. “I am not certain I will be able to sleep soundly after beholding something like that... I shall allow you to turn back the hands of time, but know this power is not infinite!”

_ Right, how many Divine Pulses do I get? _ I ask Sothis. I don’t actually remember how many I had in the game, because I always played on the easiest difficulty with New Game+ enabled so it wasn’t a concern.

She rolls her eyes. “I’ll give you ten for now, and if that is insufficient then you will have to, hm, what’s the phrase...” Sothis hovers directly in front of me and smirks. “ _ Get good. _ Did I say it right.”

I blink. “Uh. Yes.”  _ Where in my head did she find that?? _

“Did you say something?” Claude asks. I realize I answered her out loud by accident.

“Uh, just thinking out loud. The Red Canyon, huh?”

“Yup,” Claude confirms. “Never been there myself. I hear it’s a ruin of some ancient civilization!”

“Interesting,” Linhardt yawns, appearing out of nowhere. The last time I saw him he was bringing up the rear of our little group, behind even the mercenaries and knights of Seiros. Does he just sense when people are about to start talking about something relevant to his nerd interests or something?

“I haven’t read every book in the monastery library, of course,” Linhardt says, “but I’ve looked at a great deal of them, and I couldn’t find any that talked about the history of the Red Canyon at all.”

“Perhaps someone took those books out,” Claude suggests. He looks contemplative. “Maybe they’re still at Garreg Mach somewhere, just hidden.”

God I hope this doesn’t kickstart the Abyss storyline, these guys are still way underleveled for that. Maybe I should find my way down there myself and just talk to the Ashen Wolves on my own...

Claude stops suddenly and I almost run into him. “We’re here.”

We’ve stopped in front of a narrow bridge at the edge of the canyon, which is less colorful or deep than the Grand Canyon. It certainly doesn’t look like any of my mental images of what a canyon is. 

Sothis is quiet. I wonder if she’s remembering.

I can see the thieves arguing amongst themselves, but they’re too far away for us to clearly make out what they’re saying even though I remember hearing their dialogue in the game. They’re scattered in groups of twos and threes across the canyon.

“So this is the Red Canyon?” Claude muses. “Doesn't look red to me... Anyway, let's get things started, Teach. Looks like the thieves have been driven back. That's what we last heard, so no surprise there.”

“Mhm,” I contribute. 

“I hear there's a back road to the west. How about we split up and attack from there and from the front? We may be able to corner the enemy by approaching from both sides. In any case, we need to cross the bridge first. I'll leave the details to you, Teach.” Claude moves his arm like he’s about to pat me on the shoulder, and then seems to remember I’m a professor at the last minute and reconsiders. Reassuring.

“Well then...” I clear my throat. “Let’s get to it!”

Two of the thieves sprint across the bridge and block our access, which is just fantastic. I send Leonie and Sylvain out first, they both perform better when fighting next to the opposite gender which is ridiculous but useful. Armed with iron lances, they strike, and the thieves crumple on the stone path.

Marianne looks away.

“I had to do it,” Sylvain mutters. “Don’t hate me, please.”

“This is what I’ve trained for,” Leonie says, but she doesn’t look nearly as certain as she did in the game.

Unlike the game, the... bodies don’t just vanish off the map once they’re down. Leonie uncermoniously shoves both of the ex-thieves off the bridge into the roaring river. I guess that’s... fine??? My head hurts, but I’m not nauseous. Byleth’s body is used to this, even if I am not.

We make our way across the bridge. “Leonie, Sylvain, Claude, Lysithea and Marianne, you guys attack from the front. Hilda, Raphael, Lorenz, Ignatz, and Linhardt, head west. I’ll bring up the rear.”

“Professor, do I have to be in front?” Hilda starts whining immediately. “I’d be a lot more help if I stayed back to observe...”

“Hilda, with all due respect, shut up.” I hand her a steel axe from the convoy, and then turn to address everyone. “If you’re uncomfortable with... fatal actions, aim to incapacitate your opponents. Our goal here is to defeat the enemy commander and for you all to get some fighting experience. You don’t have to kill everyone you see, but I do want each of you to try engaging in combat at least once. Remember what I taught you about planning your attacks: if you see a close-range weapon, those of you with long-range attacks should aim for them first, and vice versa.”

The students murmur amongst themselves. I guess this is an unusual take to have. ProZD’s video about the three houses critical quotes flashes through my mind. (“Murder is okay so long as you’re having fun! Also, I’m fourteen!”)

“Gee, professor, you couldn’t have said something before sending us across the bridge?” Sylvain grumbles.

“Sorry.” I shrug. “Come on, you’re a close range fighter and you land more hits when you’re next to girls.”

Sylvain gives me a startled look, but quickly turns it into a smirk. “Wow, professor, I had no idea you paid such close attention to how I perform with girls.”

I pull the iron sword at my hip out of its holster. “Sylvain. Focus.”

“Right, yes, sorry, focusing.” He turns his lance around and moves to the front of the group next to Leonie. 

The spatial relationships on the battlefield feel very strange, with everyone spread out further apart than I’m used to seeing them in-game, but at the same time close enough to talk and trade items? And it’s not turn-based combat anymore, so while we’re advancing the bandits are moving in on us at the same time, and if that isn’t scary as fuck. I keep telling myself to not panic and let Byleth’s body do her thing, but it’s hard to relinquish control in an actual emergency.

Everyone’s doing well so far, though. The practice I had them all do is paying off, I think, as I look around to see Claude land a critical hit with his bow and Marianne healing Leonie. 

_ Sothis, keep an eye on the other group for me,  _ I think at her, and run to keep up with Ignatz and Linhardt.

One of the bandits on the west has a battalion following him, so I should probably try attacking him myself with my band of mercenaries. There’s also an actual treasure chest just sitting there on the ground, what the hell?

“We stole this treasure!” a thief yells. “It's all ours! There's not way we're gonna give it up to some knights!”

I roll my eyes and yell, “Looks like you’re gonna have to!” 

The thief is holding a pouch of what I have to assume is gold, and there’s something silvery around his neck. The chest key. I wonder why he decided to keep it there, or why he took the key to the treasure chest but not the treasure itself. Mysteries for another day. 

Hilda’s closest to the thief that shouted, so I push her forward. “Go get the chest key!”

“The what?” She makes a show of sounding spacey and confused, even though I know she can see the key even better than I can.

“Hilda!”

She whacks the guy over the head with her axe, and he collapses to the ground. “I was planning to just sit back and watch,” Hilda admits, “But hey, I got one!”

“Good job,” I say, carefully avoiding eye contact with the former thief. “Now go get whatever’s in that treasure chest. It might be useful.”

“It’s a large bullion,” Hilda reports upon opening the chest. “Should I put it in the convoy?”

“Please do, I’ll exchange it when we get back.” Five thousand gold stretch further here than in the game version. Students aren’t allowed to handle their own finances for whatever reason, so I’m in charge of keeping them all supplied for the monthly mission. I could use the bullion to upgrade everyone’s weapons and buy gifts for birthdays...

Right, I should focus on the fighting. I look around to see how everyone’s doing so far. In my group, while Hilda was dealing with the chest, Raphael and Ignatz had managed to take down a bandit by working together. Good teamwork, guys. Linhardt is healing Lorenz, grumbling all the while. The rest of the bandits are all clustered around the stronghold Kostas is holed up in, but it’s a clear path until then. 

“Good work, everyone,” I say, and we run towards the stronghold.

_ Sothis, status report.  _

“Lysithea took out a fighter from a distance in one shot. She really is as powerful as you claimed she would be, even after barely a month of training. Claude and Marianne each incapacitated a fighter, but not fatally as far as I can tell, and Leonie got an archer. We’re advancing towards the stronghold now.”

_ Great, so are we. ... I forgot you can’t talk to them, I was going to ask you to tell Marianne to cast Silence on the priest on this side.  _

“Unfortunately, I can do no such thing. You’re welcome for the status report, by the way.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” I mutter under my breath, and then take stock of our surroundings again.

From where I’m standing I can see Sylvain locked in close combat with a fighter a few hundred feet to my right, Marianne standing behind him and ready to heal if needed. Claude is weaving around to approach Kostas himself, without even waiting for my directions. Leonie’s aiming her lance at an archer that’s trying to attack Claude.

Marianne is too far away to hear me if I yell now, but if I run closer...

“Claude! Tell Marianne to cast Silence over here!” 

“You got it, Teach!”

The priest moves like he’s been lassoed by an invisible rope, and Lorenz takes the opportunity to stab him with his lance. Didn’t expect that much initiative from Lorenz, but good for him!

Byleth’s body has a kind of endless stamina I never experienced in my own life, when I could barely run for five minutes without getting winded. But here, I don’t feel like I’m losing energy the longer this fight goes on, which is surreal in its own way. Maybe it’s a function of the magic in this world?

There’s a thief with a battalion behind him approaching Hilda. Wait, I have a battalion too! I should use them!

As it turns out, the way a battalion works is they follow a person around at a safe distance, not engaging with any enemies unless directed to do so. Weird, but okay. I blow a whistle. “Jeralt’s Mercenaries, over here!” 

“What’s up, boss?” asks one of the mercenaries. All of them have the same face, which makes me wonder about the possibilities of cloning technology in Fodlan. 

I point at the battalion guy. “I want to run a gambit on that thief.”

“Yes ma’am!”

Hilda is stepping backwards to avoid fighting him. I think she noticed the battalion too. I run forward, and the mercenaries run past me, yelling and rushing the guy and his squad until they’re disoriented and falling over. The enemy also moves back several feet. So that’s how gambits work, I guess.

“Um, thank you,” I tell the mercenaries, bowing instinctively.

“Happy to serve!” one of them says. God that’s weird. If they really are Jeralt’s Mercenaries I’m going to have to figure out how to tell them apart when I have to socialize with them.

A fighter moves to attack me, and I will my brain to stop thinking and let Byleth’s instincts take over. Byleth’s hands swing her sword up and over the man’s head and it’s... done. I try not to think about it and focus on joining Claude on his way up to the stronghold.

“Spoiled little noble!” Kostas snarls. “Just die like a good little rich kid!”

“Being noble has nothing to do with who you are as a person or how hard your life is. Your logic is illogical!” Claude spins around and shoots. “Enough is enough!”

I’m pretty sure that’s a critical hit!

His arrow lands with enough force behind it to knock Kostas off his feet. The man lies there on his back, groaning in pain. “I should have never listened to that idiot... What a mistake...”

The knights of Seiros deal with the aftermath. Sothis tells me to hang back. “Although the battle is at an end, do not feel too at ease.”

I nod politely.

“I feel... a sense of familiarity about this place...and a great depth of emotion is tied to that sense of familiarity. Like joy and sorrow. Pain and love. And all things in between... If I was somehow here before, I wonder what happened...”

“Teach?” Claude interrupts. “What are you doing here? We should get back to the academy.”

“Right, sorry, I’m coming!”

“You’ve earned my gratitude for ridding the canyon of thieves,” Sothis says as we depart. “I am not sure why, yet I am grateful all the same.”

The walk back to the monastery feels longer than it did in the morning. We’d just missed lunchtime, and Raphael is groaning about how his muscles need fuel and whatnot. No one had the foresight to bring snacks this time. I’ll have to remember for the next mission.

_ So uh, Sothis... do you want me to tell you everything I know about this canyon thing from the video game or do you want to remember it on your own?  _

“I will remember that which is lost,” Sothis tells me firmly. “These are my memories, and they are for me to recover. I’ve avoided looking at your memories of my past for this reason.”

_ But maybe if you knew what I knew you could use it, somehow? Stop Edelgard? _

“I don’t see how such ancient history could have a tangible bearing on the near future,” she sniffs, then grows silent. “I must admit it disturbs me to know that you know more about me than I do myself, and I wish to restore some balance to this distribution of information.”

_ Fair enough.  _

Claude and Linhardt both keep looking at me like they want to ask a question, but aren’t sure if they should. I’ve seen them in the library together a few times now. I feel like if they do manage to collaborate, they’ll get closer to solving the mysteries of Fodlan than anyone else in this universe.

We finally get to the monastery and everyone runs for the dining hall. I’m pretty hungry too, but Claude sticks his arm out to stop me. “Hey, Teach, I have a question.”

“I gathered. What’s up?”

“On the way back, you seemed transfixed by the canyon. Did something happen there?”

Excellent question, Claude! What am I going to tell him, an immortal goddess is sharing my brain and she thinks it seems kind of familiar?

“It seemed... strangely familiar to me,” I say, trying for a contemplative and mysterious tone of voice. “Like I’d been there before, even though I know I haven’t.”

“It seemed familiar to you? Huh. Can't say the same. Maybe it's a memory from when you were a child. Or from a past life. Anyway, if you can't remember, I guess there isn't really much more to be said.”

“I do wonder why Zanado came to be called the Red Canyon,” Claude shares as we follow the rest of the Golden Deer to our late lunch. “Nothing there was actually red.”

“There was probably some kind of big battle,” I say without thinking. “Maybe it’s symbolically red with blood.” That’s what I thought when I played the game for the first time at least, it’s not a huge deductive leap to make.

Claude stops and turns back, eyebrows raised in an expression of surprise. “Oh? Now that’s a very interesting theory, Teach. I’ll have to read up on it.”

I’ll have to go to Rhea’s chambers for a debriefing soon, but for now, my only concern is getting some fantasy food into this borrowed body’s stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BLUH


	12. Chapter 12

“So, you have safely disposed of those bandits,” Rhea intones. I am anxiously bouncing back and forth in front of her, waiting for the ordeal that is “dealing with Rhea for more than five minutes at a time” to be over. “I pray that their souls find salvation. But why did they target the students to begin with?”

Oh, I don’t know, perhaps because one of those aforementioned students hired them to murder two of Fodlan’s heirs? I’m not going to tell Rhea that. Even if I thought it would be useful for her to know, I don’t trust her or like her very much, so fuck that. I just shrug and let her keep talking. This woman loves a good monologue. “We must further investigate the true cause of all that took place. Until we know more, I ask that you support the students and relieve them of any unnecessary worry.”

“Of course, Lady Rhea.” I add a bow for good measure. Supporting the students is the one thing I can definitely do.

“Good. I have high expectations for you. By the way, how was your time in Zanado? Legend has it, in ancient times, a goddess alighted upon this world in that very canyon. For a goddess from heavens, Zanado could only have been a temporary haven.” She pauses as if waiting for me to say something, but I don’t really know how to respond to this without sounding like a complete dumbass. I just nod and hope she continues. Maybe Claude would be interested in learning that Red Canyon lore.

Rhea frowns slightly. There goes that support ranking, I guess. “Long ago, the divine Seiros received a revelation from the goddess. A gift, to help the lost. The goddess is always watching over Fódlan from her kingdom above. However, in ancient times, the goddess graced this world with her presence and offered salvation to the people here. She is the mother of all life, the arbiter of every soul.”

This pseudo-Catholic religion chafes at me like cheap underwear. I was raised Jewish! “...Why are you telling me this?” I blurt out like an idiot.

Rhea blinks. I have gone off-script, and she was not expecting me to. Whoops. “As a professor and a member of the staff here at the monastery, I pray for you to devote yourself to the teachings of Seiros.” 

You’re Seiros! You want me to worship  _ you _ ? Fuck off! I nod and bow again. If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all and hope the supernatural dragon lady can’t read your mind.

The supernatural dragon lady that  _ can _ read my mind is cackling gleefully. Sothis thinks my discomfort is hilarious. Sothis may not be the paragon of virtue Rhea says she is.

“So, Zanado was a temporary haven for me, huh?” Sothis muses as we finally escape Rhea’s audience chamber and head to the pond to stress-fish. “I have but the faintest stirrings of recollection about that place... And I wouldn’t have even known I was a goddess if not for your memories, I can’t remember that at all... This is quite frustrating, I must admit.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I hope you can regain your memories soon.”

“It’s sweet of you to worry about me,” Sothis says. “Explain what ‘Jewish’ means, you kept thinking that while Rhea was talking and I’ve never heard that word before.”

I drop my fishing rod in the pond from laughing so hard.

“Why? What’s so funny to you?” Sothis demands. 

I grab the rod before it sinks too far into the water and shake the droplets off. “It’s... I don’t know how to explain this to you or where to even start. Can’t you just... check my memories or something?”

Sothis is silent, presumably digging through my brain archives for information on Judaism. “I’m getting memories of potato pancakes, some books you’ve read, a song from a television show and a lot of anxious confusion.”

“That’s most of it.” I don’t really want to have this conversation out loud. Or at all. But my discomfort with the Church of Seiros is partly due to this part of my upbringing, so I would like Sothis to understand it at least a little. “There’s also several thousand years of systematic persecution, but we don’t really have the time to go over the history of an entirely different world.”

I put another wriggly worm on the end of my fishing hook, and let Byleth’s fishing instincts cast the line forward.

“Oh, Teach!” I look up. Claude is standing behind me. “How was your meeting with Rhea?”

I sigh and reel the fishing line in. I’m not gonna catch anything with all this noise, unless the fish are really stupid. “She told me something interesting about the Red Canyon.” I summarize her exposition dump.

“A place special to the goddess...” Claude sits down next to me on the pier, kicking his legs back and forth. It occurs to me that I don’t remember ever seeing him in this part of the monastery while playing the game. Maybe he’s not a fan of fishing? “Teach, do you believe in the goddess?”

“Kind of a loaded question to ask a professor at a monastery dedicated to a saint that serves said goddess,” I point out. Just because the goddess of Fodlan is sharing my brain and a stranger’s body, doesn’t mean I  _ believe  _ in her. What was that Discworld quote about witches and gods? It’d be like believing in the postman.

“You are so rude,” Sothis gasps. I think she’s exaggerating.

Claude winks at me. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“I believe... it doesn’t matter whether I believe in the goddess or not,” I say. “But I think everyone should be free to believe in whatever god they want.”

Claude leans back, shifting his weight to his hands. “I agree. But you should be careful saying things like that around followers of Seiros, you know.”

“Of course. I’m glad we’re in agreement about this,” I add.

“Me too.” Claude stands up. “I’ll leave you to your fishing now, Teach. Thanks for the chat.”

“Sure thing. You can always come talk to me.”

Rhea summons me again a few days later to tell me about the month’s mission. Seteth is there too this time. “We have received reports that Lord Lonato has rallied troops against the Holy Church of Seiros.”

I wince. I remember this one. “That would be Ashe’s adoptive father, yes?”

“That’s correct.”

“Does Ashe know? Is he alright?” Can we be at least a little concerned about the teenager in our care?

“Last I remember, Ashe was not a student of  _ your _ house, Professor,” Rhea interrupts, smiling coldly. “I’m certain professor Hanneman is helping him through this. Lord Lonato has been showing hostility to the church for some time now.”

They go over the mission details and introduce me to Catherine. Catherine is a lot more attractive in person, and I smile and nod politely when she tells me she’ll be leading the knights. I consider inviting her to tea or something, but then remember her weird obsession and hero-worship for Rhea. Also, the fact that I have nothing to talk to her about because I am still faking all of my knowledge about fighting with Sothis’s help. 

“I look forward to working with you,” is what I settle on, and then I get out of there and go look for Ashe.

He’s in the first place I look for him: the cathedral, praying in front of the altar. I stop a few feet away from him, not wanting to intrude on this private moment. The cathedral at night is dark even with the chandeliers full of candles. I understand those supports about mistaking Marianne for a ghost better now.

Ashe looks up. “Professor? Have you come to pray too?”

“I came to check on you,” I say gently. “I thought you might be here.”

Ashe nods slowly. I take this as invitation to sit down in the pew next to him. “I’m guessing you’ve heard?”

“Professor Hanneman told me the news, but there must be some mistake. Lonato would never raise arms against the church. At least, he never said anything to me about it.” He pulls his knees up to his chest. “I don’t understand...”

“How are you feeling about it?”

He blinks. “Um. Confused. Betrayed, a little... Lost. Being here makes me feel more at peace. Knowing the goddess is watching makes me believe everything will turn out alright.”

I try not to cringe remembering how this went down on all three routes, and resolve to do everything in my power to deal with this situation peacefully. Ashe isn’t looking at me, though.

_ Sothis, any words of wisdom for the sad teenager who believes in you? _

“Oh, I hate that you’re the only person who can see me,” she grumbles. “Tell Ashe that the goddess would want him to be prepared for any outcome of this rebellion. Is that too calculated? I don’t remember what kind of blessings and vows I made when I lived among mortals, if I ever did those at all... how inconvenient...” she yawns and goes silent. Thanks for nothing, Sothis.

“Your class will be the one helping the knights deal with the aftermath, right?” He sighs. “I wish you luck.”

“You can come along if you like,” I offer. I remember there was a mission assistance mechanic in the game to borrow students from other houses for a month, surely that’s still possible here.

Ashe perks up immediately. “Really?”

“Of course. I’m sure you’d like to see Lord Lonato again, regardless of... circumstances,” I say. I desperately hope it won’t end up being the last time this kid sees his dad alive.

“Thank you, Professor. I’ll be there.”

I nod. “What do you need most right now?”

“For this to all be a misunderstanding,” Ashe says. “For Lonato to have done nothing wrong, and for Garreg Mach to not be fighting him.”

“I meant, are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you need a cup of tea? A good storybook to distract you? A warm blanket? Your friends?”

“I think I should just go to sleep,” Ashe says after a moment of thought. “It’s getting pretty late.”

“I’ll walk you to your room,” I offer. “It’s dark, who knows what might be lurking in the shadows...”

“Professor! Don’t joke about that!” 

We make it back to the dormitories in short order, and I’m somewhat proud of myself for learning how to navigate the monastery even at night. There’s a cluster of people in front of Ashe’s door: all of the Blue Lions, from what I can see, and I think Caspar and Petra as well. And Leonie, which I was not expecting. Do they seriously think they’ll all fit in Ashe’s room? The single dorms here are smaller than the doubles I shared at college!

“There you are!” Ingrid announces as we come up. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Mercedes holds up a platter piled high with cookies and cakes. Ashe gasps. 

“We thought it’d be nice to have a little get-together and help take your mind off things,” Annette chimes in. “Sylvain brought board games and cards, and Ingrid made tea.”

“Oh...” Ashe covers his mouth with both hands. It’s very cute.

I pat him on the back. “Well, looks like you all have this handled. Great teamwork, everyone. Don’t stay up too late, you still have class tomorrow. Good night!”

“Good night, professor!” 

I wave at them as I walk down the row to my own room. I hope the party helps Ashe at least a little. “The power of friendship saves the day this time,” I comment. Sothis rolls her eyes.

I tell my class about the mission the next day, adding that Ashe will be joining us for the mission when it happens.

Claude raises his hand and I sigh internally at whatever nonsense is going to come out of his mouth. “Don’t you think this mission would be better suited to the Blue Lions? We’re going into Faerghus territory and working with Catherine, who was in the Blue Lions house when she was at the academy. Why did Rhea assign this to the Golden Deer?”

Because that’s how this stupid video game wanted to explain the worldbuilding lore to the player, I don’t yell. Instead, I smile brightly and say, “Would you like to go and ask her?”

Claude doesn’t react, and just crosses his arms in front of him. “Seriously, Teach, what’s her motive?”

“Claude makes a good point,” Linhardt says from underneath his desk. “Perhaps Rhea is testing you, Professor.”

I shrug. “Like I said, ask Rhea if you want to try and find out, but I’d rather focus on what’s ahead of us for now. You two can compare theories after class is over. It’s swords time now.”

And then we walked over to the training grounds for practice fighting time. I feel like I’m actually learning about swords from Byleth’s memories now. I can assume the proper stance without letting Byleth’s reflexes take over, and give advice I come up with on my own. 

Everyone starts running laps the moment we enter. I don’t even have to lead them through the stretches anymore. I wish I had internet or a 21st century library here so I could look up more exercises I could have my kids try, but we’re unfortunately stuck with the half-remembered knowledge of a former gym class slacker. 

Since none of these students are sword specialists, after making sure everyone was capable of the basics, I decided they’d get more out of this time if they all just sparred with their weapons of choice, so that’s what we do now. Everyone breaks off into pairs and I go around giving tips and checking in on people’s progress.

Lysithea and Marianne both show more natural talent for swords than the rest of my students, but neither of them are interested in actually pursuing that. So I spend some time trying to convince the two girls to practice with swords, and while Marianne folds pretty quickly, Lysithea is the most stubborn person I have ever met in my life.

“If I stay out of enemy range, I’ll never need to handle a sword,” she sniffs dismissively.

“What if someone casts Silence on you, Lysithea?” I demand. “What if someone has a guard up against magic? What if someone sneaks up on you with a lance and tries to hit you first?” Lysithea rolls her eyes. Was I this annoying when I was 15? Jeez.

“You have to learn to handle close-range physical attacks, because anything could happen on a battlefield.” I pass her a training sword anyway. “Marianne, try attacking.”

“Um, okay.” Marianne steps forward obediently. Lysithea swings her arm up to cast a spell in retaliation.

“Marianne, cast Silence!”

Marianne waves her free hand, and Lysithea steps backwards, arm coming down like it’d been caught in an invisible net.

“Now attack with the sword.”

“ _ Professor, _ ” Lysithea complains, but picks up her training sword and blocks Marianne’s swing with extreme reluctance.

“You sounded like Hilda just now,” I inform her. “Is that what you want for yourself, academically?”

Lysithea shudders. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

She and Marianne practice their swordfighting for the rest of the class period. I feel very proud of myself.

Sylvain’s birthday falls on that Friday, so I do the courteous thing and invite him to tea. I don’t remember what his favorite tea was, but he seems like a Bergamot kind of guy so I make a pot of that. 

“You've got excellent taste, Professor,” he says, inhaling the steam. “This is great tea.”

I grin, feeling triumphant. “It’s a favorite of mine as well.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” Sylvain says, smirking.

The sun is setting over the garden, and I can see Felix and Ingrid sitting at a table behind Sylvain. I wonder if he’s noticed them.

I turn around. Claude waves at me, while Dimitri looks away. So, standard play then.

“I’m surprised you didn’t have other plans, considering it’s your birthday and all,” I say. I don’t really have much to talk to Sylvain about besides “the way you interact with women sets off all my alarms and I really wish this wasn’t the case but there’s a non-zero chance we’ll have to cut this teatime short because of an anxiety attack,” but I can’t just tell him that. We’re in public!

Sylvain laughs self-deprecatingly. “Oh, you know me, turning down dates left and right... I’m kidding, Professor,” he says at my unimpressed expression. “We all got together at Ashe’s the other day, organizing another party for me in the same week would be too much. I don’t usually make a big deal out of my birthday anyway, so...”

Whatever my face does at this must be way too pitying, because Sylvain looks mortified. “Professor, seriously, it’s fine, stop looking like that.”

I shove the birthday cake I procured from the dining hall earlier at him. “Have some cake. You’re what, twenty now? That’s worth celebrating properly.”

Sylvain buries his face in his hands. “Can we please talk about something else now?”

“Sure. What would you like to talk about?”

“What’s your type?” 

All that sympathy I’d been feeling for Sylvain Gautier just went out the metaphorical window. “Remember what I said about boundaries? Several times?”

“I’m not hitting on you,” he protests, “I’m just wondering who I should set you up with.”

“Nobody,” I snap. “We may be close in age, but I am still your professor and you are a student. We are not friends. You cannot set your professor up on dates. You have to talk to me like how you would talk to Hanneman or Manuela, don’t treat me differently because I’m young and pretty.” Wait, never mind, doesn’t he flirt with Manuela in a support? “Talk to me like I’m not something you want to fuck.” Sylvain’s jaw drops. I hope the shock helps it sink in.

“Anyway,” I say, picking up a cookie from the tray. “Have you read any good books lately?”

Sylvain blinks. “You know, I actually have. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the works of Oscar Hremovitz, but...” he talks at length about a Fodlan novelist I have never heard of. I should really go through the pleasure reading section of the library here, sparse as it is. I consider myself a fairly well-read person, and not knowing what books people talk about in this world is almost as frustrating as a language barrier when traveling. It’s a cultural barrier! 

"Thanks for the treat, Professor,” Sylvain tells me as I clean up the table. “I'd like to do this again sometime."

“I’d like that too,” I say. “I learned a lot about the local literature. You’re a very interesting person when you stop trying so hard.”

“You always seem to see right through me,” he mutters. “Have a good evening, Professor.”

“You too! And happy birthday again.”

“You could’ve been easier on him,” Sothis tells me, once I’m back in my room recuperating. "The boy means no harm."

“Sylvain opens his mouth and I relive every catcall I’ve heard outside since I was twelve all at once,” I tell her. “I needed it to stop.”

“I don’t know what cats have to do with this.”

So I share the memories with her. Not just the catcalling, but the other stuff that Sylvain’s careless flirtation brings back up to the surface. Nothing objectively terrible, just... uncomfortable.

“Hm,” Sothis says. And that’s that.

That’s the most eventful thing to happen that week, until Jeralt catches me on my way out of the dining hall on Saturday and informs me that I won’t get away with skipping out on drinking with the mercenaries any more, and tomorrow I will join them in the village for some father-daughter-band-of-mercenaries bonding time.

So that should be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The quote ](https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/481718-most-witches-don-t-believe-in-gods-they-know-that-the)  
> [The song from a tv show](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iLNa-ocdryY)  
> also I usually write these in a void and then cast them out into the world but this chapter was Difficult in Multiple Places (also, way too personal! haha whoops!) so I made several people look at parts of it. bask, jamie, thank you  
> someone put this on a rec list which is. terrifying but thank you for enjoying! and if you came here from that rec list, I hope you also enjoyed it


	13. Chapter 13

Byleth’s body can and will eat anything. This is one of its best attributes, because I cannot stand the taste of alcohol on a good day and would not be able to drink this... beer? Mead? Light brown alcoholic drink without wincing. 

The tavern is loud and crowded with Jeralt’s entire company in attendance. It’s also darker than I expected, and people I do not know and do not recognize as named characters from the video game keep talking to me. It is, in short, a hell evening.

_ Sothis I will give up control of this body if you take over for the rest of the night, please,  _ I beg her to no avail. Sothis manifests over the table just to stick her tongue out at me and disappear again.

I don’t even really get to bond with Jeralt in this situation, because he starts drinking hard and fast right away and is singing some horribly off-key song I don’t recognize before I even make it through one glass. I fall back on my best imitation of game Byleth: nod solemnly, smile mysteriously, say the bare minimum required to count as sustaining a conversation.

“Professor Byleth!” someone exclaims. I look up and see Manuela. “It’s rare to see you here!”

“Isn’t it!” says the mercenary next to me. I think his name is Lincoln. In the dim candlelight of the pub it’s even harder to tell any of these people apart. “Byleth never goes out anymore. Too busy, she says.”

“How diligent! I remember my first year as a professor. I don’t know if I worked as hard as Byleth, even then...” Manuela sighs, reminiscing. “But it’s important to have enough time to relax and have some fun every now and then. Take it from me, Byleth.”

I nod. I wish fervently that watches existed in this universe so I could look at something and say it was late and I needed to head out. How long have I been here? A hour? A decade?

“It’s been approximately 34 minutes and 12 seconds, you drama queen,” Sothis reports.

_ How do you know that? _

“I have the power to turn back the hands of time, do I not? While I cannot change the speed of the temporal flow, I am attuned to it. I have to be to use my power wisely.”

“You could’ve told me earlier,” I grumble into my drink.

“What was that?” asks probably-Lincoln.

“Nothing.” On the opposite side of the table, a drinking game that looks kind of like Pong but with nuts instead of ping pong balls is being played. I yank my glass out of the way of an errant projectile.

I stand up. I have hit my limit. “I just remembered, I’m on curfew duty today, I have to get back to the monastery.”

“It’s not even 9 o’clock,” Sothis tells me with entirely unnecessary glee. “Curfew isn’t for over an hour. There’s no rush.”

_ Why do you wish to torture me so? _

“I’ll walk with you,” Manuela volunteers suddenly. “It can be dangerous out there for young ladies alone at night.”

“I have a sword,” I point out. “So do you, actually. I think it’s everyone else who’d be in danger from us.”

“Let’s hope we don’t have to put that to the test,” Manuela says. “Goodbye for now, everyone~!”

“Bye.”

The tavern door slams shut behind us and Manuela breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness you showed up when you did, honestly, I wasn’t sure how I was going to get out of that one.”

“What happened?” She didn’t seem to be in any distress when I saw her.

Manuela’s hand drops down to the sword at her waist and she walks a little faster. “A man I had... a previous flirtation with had spotted me and was approaching when I came across your table. It was the sort of flirtation where I would prefer not to ever see this man again, if you understand me.”

“I understand perfectly.” 

Manuela turns back to face me and raises her eyebrows. “Oh? Does Professor Byleth have some unsavory suitors in her past as well?”

I hold back a laugh. “No past suitors, but plenty of acquaintances I would rather not run into while out on the town.” Although at this point, if I ran into any of those acquaintances in this world the shock might just be enough to send me right back to where I came from.

“Good for you, Byleth,” Manuela says. “Don’t bother with men. All they ever do is disappoint.”

I try to remember Manuela’s supports. I don’t think I got all of them on any of my runs, I didn’t use Manuela much. I think she likes complaining about her problems?

“...Would you like to talk about it?” I hazard. 

This turns out to be the right thing to say, and Manuela goes off on a rant about all of the boy problems she’s ever had that continues right up until we reach the gates of Garreg Mach. I mostly zone out at this, but Sothis appears to be listening raptly, commenting in my head on Manuela’s tales.

“Thank you for listening,” Manuela says. “I just realized how long I’ve been talking. And I didn’t even ask you about yourself at all...”

“No worries,” I say. “I don’t have much to tell anyway.” I could try to make up a backstory for Byleth, but since Jeralt is around, I’m worried I’ll say something that contradicts whatever he knows of Byleth’s past and get found out.

We walk up the stone steps to the gate.

“Good evening, professors,” the gatekeeper greets us, saluting. “Nothing to report!”

“Happy to hear it,” I say, feeling genuine joy at the gatekeeper’s mere existence. He is just so delightful. “Have a good night, sir.”

“You as well!” He waves. 

“The gatekeeper is just so nice,” I sigh.

“Is that your type, then? I wouldn’t have guessed...” Manuela is smirking as we walk through the entrance hall, and I almost smack her arm before remembering that she’s like my senior or whatever and I should probably show some respect.

“I cannot emphasize enough how uninterested I am in men at all,” I blurt out. Huh, I guess that’s the first time I’ve come out to someone as Byleth. 

Manuela just sighs indulgently. “You say that now, but you’re still so young. There’s plenty of time for men to disappoint you as well.” 

Ah. “I like women,” I say, feeling the exact same level of panic at saying the words as I did the first time I said it out loud as a teenager. “Um.” Manuela is frozen, blinking at me in shock. At least I’m not trapped in a car with her, like I was when I impulsively came out to my mother that one time. So I just start walking towards the dorms and shout over my shoulder on the way. “Have a good night.”

“You worry about the silliest things,” Sothis comments.

“You sound like my mom,” I grumble. “I have anxiety, that’s how it works!” 

I fully intended to go straight to bed when I got back, but I forgot how early I left. Curfew isn’t for another...

“17 minutes,” Sothis says helpfully. 

“Thank you.” Yeah, so curfew isn’t for another seventeen minutes, which means students are still milling around in the cloisters and hanging out with their rooms’ doors open. I can hear laughter coming from Ashe’s room when I walk by. I’m glad his friends are still keeping him company. 

I decide to go to the library and pick up some fiction books so that I have something to talk about with the nerds in this place the next time there’s a tea party. “Sothis, whose birthday is next?”

“Lorenz’s birthday is on the 13th,” she reports. “And Edelgard’s is on the 22nd of this month.”

“Boo, I’m running low on bergamot.” And as I mumble that to myself, turning the corner to the stairs leading up to the library, I bump into someone shorter than me, who squeals at a supersonic pitch.

“Ahhhh! Ghost! I mean— Professor! Uh, good evening! I wasn’t expecting to see you here!” Lysithea bows. She looks like she’s about to cry, poor baby.

Wait, I remember this support.

I’m getting a support? Like an actual support from the game?? Wow! “Good evening, Lysithea,” I greet her. “Where are you headed?”

“Oh, I left something in the dining hall, so I'm on my way to fetch it. But you don't need to come with me or anything like that. I'm fine on my own—really!”

“...Are you sure?”

Wrong dialogue option. Lysithea pouts indignantly. “Of course I’m sure, I’m not a child that needs a grownup to hold her hand everywhere just because it’s dark!”

I wait. Lysithea glances at me, and then sighs, elaborating. “Everyone I come across asks if I'd like some company. They all seem to think I'll be scared wandering alone at night. So rude and presumptuous, you know? I'm perfectly capable of being on my own!”

“Right, of course.” I nod, and then start walking in the direction of the dining hall. Lysithea speeds up to keep pace with me. “But accepting the company of people who care about you is nothing to be ashamed of. I asked Professor Manuela to walk back from the village with me this evening so neither of us had to go out alone in the dark.”

“Are you afraid of ghosts, Professor?” We walk past the Golden Deer Classroom and continue down the path.

“Hm... I’m not sure if I believe in ghosts, but I do believe that the cover of darkness can hide dangerous things, so it’s always safer to be walking around with others.”

“That makes perfect sense.” Lysithea nods vigorously. “Wh— Hey, you’ve walked me to the dining hall!”

“I just happened to be walking this way.” I shrug.

“Well, thank you, Professor,” she says softly. “And thanks for never treating me differently because I’m younger than the rest of our class.” She retrieves the book she’d left in the dining hall and we start walking back.

“You’re a good student.” I pat her on the shoulder a few times. “Now tell me how learning Swarm Z is going.” 

We reach Lysithea’s room just as the bells chime ten o’clock. “Good night, Professor! Thanks again!” She slams her door shut behind her.

“You’re welcome. Good night.”

Curfew is pretty lax here. As long as the doors are closed and it’s quiet after ten, the professors aren’t expected to do anything. I just have to walk up and down the dorm building halls for an hour, and after that the monastery patrols take over. I think the summer camp I went to as a kid was stricter than this. 

I walk the halls of the dormitory and think about the mission. I don’t want us to kill Ashe’s dad. But by bringing Catherine, who he has a particular vendetta against, that pretty much removes any possibility of a peaceful resolution. How can we unfuck this rebellion thing in a peaceful manner? What even prompted this sudden rebellion in the first place?

I need to talk to Dimitri, I realize. I need to talk to all of the Blue Lions, honestly. Not Catherine, because she’s intimidatingly hot and also way too loyal to Rhea for me to want to trust her, but all of the students, who grew up in the kingdom and know more about their politics than I can figure out.

I finish my patrols and make my way to Hanneman’s room on the second floor of the main building. He goes to bed fairly early compared to everyone else, but he opens the door for me still fully dressed and wide awake. There are papers out on his desk and a strange alchemical contraption bubbling away. “What is it, Professor Byleth? Would you like to hear more of my theories on your crest and history?”

“I really would not,” I say honestly. “I came to ask you about borrowing your class for a day.”

“That’s unusual. What for?”

“The Golden Deer’s mission for the month is going to be suppressing a rebellion in the Kingdom, and I want to talk to the students from the Kingdom to make sure we all understand the background of what this rebellion is and why it’s occurring so we can try and resolve it peacefully.”

“Hmm. That’s an interesting approach. Certainly not one I or Manuela would have considered.” Hanneman adjusts his spectacles thoughtfully. “I think our classes have Tactics lectures at the same time on Wednesdays, we can have a joint lesson then.”

“Thank you!” I bow. “I owe you a favor in return.”

“Allow me to study your crest on a free day and we can call it even,” Hanneman says. “Have a good night, Byleth. Oh, and one more thing.” He starts to pull the door closed in front of my face. “I wouldn’t tell Rhea about this if I were you. You didn’t hear it from me, but the Archbishop prefers things to be done her way or not at all.”

Ominous! “Thanks for the warning,” I tell him. “Good night!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Black Lives Matter.](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/#)  
> [ google doc of bail funds](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1fb2cioBcCO47L_oGPsjdGVWDAc3RTHU2tIpDtekWKs0/mobilebasic)  
> [ google doc of organizations and funds](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Mo2E-M9Bw57ndJrRVegxVhwhI11SWFNPQdQEFVyn02Q/mobilebasic)  
> [support without spending money ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bCgLa25fDHM&feature=emb_title)  
> [ free ebook about police brutality ](https://www.versobooks.com/books/2817-the-end-of-policing)  
> [ center for black equity](https://centerforblackequity.org/)  
> [tumblr post with more links to things](https://waveridden.tumblr.com/post/619517091597418496/ways-to-supportbe-an-ally)  
> if you're protesting, stay safe.


	14. Chapter 14

The joint Golden Deer and Blue Lions class takes place in the Golden Deer classroom. There’s plenty of space and the tables they call desks are big enough for six students to share one easily. I pull the desks closer to the front of the room like I usually do for lectures and have the Blue Lions bring chairs from their classroom to sit behind the desks. 

“Cluster together,” I command, while ushering Hanneman to a seat behind my own desk. “We’re all friends here, and this way no one has to yell.” 

I’m expecting the Golden Deer kids to bunch up on one side of the room and the Blue Lions on the other. To my surprise, Dimitri sits down next to Claude at the front of the room. Annette joins Lysithea at the next desk over, Dedue sits with Ignatz, Felix sits with Sylvain, and everyone settles in without as much arguing as I was expecting.

Ashe comes in last and sits down next to Linhardt in the back row. “You know, you don’t have to participate today if you’re not up for it.”

“I’m up for it,” Ashe assures me quickly. “I can’t let my personal feelings get in the way of my education.”

I sigh, but don’t push him.

I lean against my table with a Cool Teacher pose I absolutely learned from TV, and pull out my secret weapon: a bag of candy. I take out a paper-wrapped lemon drop and hold it in my right hand, while writing “Western Church Insurrection” on the blackboard behind me with my left. Below that, I write the subheading “Lord Lonato???”

“Teach, that’s too many question marks,” Claude calls out.

“I have a lot of questions!” I reply. The students giggle, the tension in the room lessening. Thank you, Claude.

I whirl back around and gesture with the lemon drop. “So, Blue Lions, thank you so much for helping us today. Now, as you all know, the Golden Deer are going on a mission into Faerghus territory at the end of this month to help clean up the aftermath of a violent rebellion against the Church of Seiros, led by Lord Lonato. However, none of us are from Faerghus ourselves, except for Sylvain. So, I want us to have a group discussion and sharing of knowledge to understand why this situation is happening and see if we can try to resolve it peacefully. In exchange, we’ll practice sparring against your class tomorrow.”

Ingrid is glaring at me with such deep suspicion I can feel the weight of her gaze on my face. It occurs to me now that this plan might not have been very well thought out. The Duscur Thing is probably going to come up, and at least half of the Blue Lions are still dealing with the ramifications of that because nobody in this universe has ever heard of therapy. “Um, if you feel uncomfortable about the conversation at any point, you have permission to leave the room, no questions asked.”

Awkward silence. I hold the lemon drop higher and wave it back and forth. “Can someone from the Golden Deer tell me the history of the Kingdom of Faerghus?”

“First of all, it’s called the  _ Holy  _ Kingdom of Faerghus, Teach,” Claude corrects me. I roll my eyes as the class laughs. “Faerghus broke from the Adrestian Empire in the War of the Eagle and Lion about four hundred years ago. It’s called the Holy Kingdom because the Church of Seiros helped to found it by mediating between Faerghus and the Empire. And uh... The king was named Loog.”

I throw him the lemon drop. “Great job. Okay, Blue Lions, any corrections?”

Ingrid raises her hand first, so I call on her. “Loog, the King of Lions, led his army in rebellion against the empire in 747, finally defeating the emperor in 751 at the Tailtean Plains.” She seems to shrink a bit after that. “I’m not correcting Claude, I’m just adding on to what he said.”

I nod and toss a lemon drop at her too before picking up a piece of chalk. “What should I write down on the blackboard?”

“Loog, Church of Seiros, split with Empire,” various Golden Deer students call out, familiar with how my lecture classes work. The Blue Lions, who’ve only ever had me for swordfighting instruction, blink uncertainly. 

“Very good.” I write down the Key Words and Phrases. “Okay, so what happens after that?”

Uncomfortable silence this time. I messed up, I messed up. We can’t just not talk about Duscur, but the pain from the Duscur incident is still fresh for so many of these kids...

“Let’s circle back,” I hear myself saying. I have become that which I hate: a person who says “let’s circle back.” Oh well. “Let’s just just jump to the present day now. Lord Lonato’s rebellion. Thoughts?” I tap the chalk against my “Lord Lonato???” subheading.

Everyone looks at Ashe, and then immediately looks away. Ashe sighs.

I throw a lemon drop in front of him. “This one’s free. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine, Professor,” Ashe says. “I'm Lonato's adopted son, in case you didn’t know. He raised me as though I were his own blood. He was always so kind. I guess all this has to do with Christophe.”

I throw him another lemon drop. “Who’s Christophe?”

“Lord Lonato’s son,” Ashe explains. “He was... executed by the Knights of Seiros as being part of the plot to... murder King Lambert.”

“Makes sense to me,” Sylvain speaks up suddenly. “The Church blames his son for the Tragedy, he blames the Church for the death of his son. What I don’t get is, why now, and not four years ago?”

“Maybe because Ashe isn’t at Castle Gaspard anymore,” Annette suggests. “He won’t get caught in the crossfire.”

“Ashe may be far away, but what about the commonfolk Lonato serves?” Lorenz points out. “It's a noble's duty to protect his people, not to endanger them by rallying armies in such a feckless and improper manner. Abuse of that kind is no better than slavery.”

“That might be a little harsh,” Claude says. Lorenz glares at him and I brace myself for breaking up another pointless argument between those two. They fight a lot more than I expected from the game and annoyingly enough tend to get into it in the middle of my classes. I am  _ this  _ close to commissioning Bernadetta to help me make a Get Along Shirt for those two.

“A rebellion like this is downright senseless,” Dimitri cuts in, voice sharp. “Lord Lonato knows better. If he had enough allies to back his rebellion, it would be a different matter...”

_ Well isn’t that an unexpected angle for the Crown Prince of Faerghus to take, _ I muse. At least he distracts Claude and Lorenz from their eternal bickering.

“So what can we do about it?” I tap the chalk against the blackboard. “We can’t bring Christophe back to life. What can we offer Lord Lonato to end this rebellion peacefully?” My first thought is “Rhea’s head on a platter,” but none of these kids would go for that yet.

“Rhea could apologize?” Claude suggests.

“How do we know Christophe was innocent at all?” Felix says. “Maybe he  _ was _ part of the group that planned the murders.”

“He still deserved a fair trial!” Leonie calls out.

“I feel like we’re all missing pieces of the puzzle.” Linhardt picks his head up from his desk long enough to yawn loudly. “But I don’t know what those pieces are.”

“People, focus!” I slap the blackboard with my hand for emphasis. “What can we do  _ now?  _ I don’t think The Archbishop is the type of person to apologize to someone she’s already written off as a sinful nonbeliever.”

Thoughtful silence. “Maybe material goods? Like, I don’t know, vegetables and wool and resources?” Leonie suggests.

“People get angry when they’re hungry,” Raphael agrees.

“What if we just let them split?” Lysithea says. “Let the Western Church separate from the teachings of Seiros entirely and worship the goddess their own way.” Some people gasp, but I don’t catch who. Lysithea ignores them. “I don’t see why the church should have equal authority over a part of Faerghus as the ruler of Faerghus itself.”

“That’s partly because Faerghus still does not have a king, as I am too young to take the throne in my father’s place,” Dimitri explains. “The Church has far more legitimacy as a governing body right now. If a territory were to reject the authority of the Church of Seiros now, it would be tantamount to seceding from the Kingdom entirely.”

“That’s stupid,” Lysithea mutters, but quietly. 

Hilda leans back in her chair. “All of this government and politics stuff is such a headache.”

We don’t end up coming to any sort of consensus by the end of the class hour, but everyone enjoys the lemon drops (except the people who don’t like citrus candy) and assures me they found this class useful. 

“It was fun to talk to different people for once!” Hilda says cheerfully.

“I learned a lot,” Mercedes adds. I always feel like Mercedes is humoring me whenever we interact. She’s older and taller and infinitely more mature than I am. The fact that I’m teaching her instead of the other way around feels like a cosmic joke.

“Your teaching style is unlike any other professor I’ve met,” Hanneman says. “It’s very interesting. Perhaps your Crest—”

“I can assure you my Crest has no bearing on how I teach,” I cut him off. “My father and I traveled around extensively when I was young, so I learned from a variety of teachers with vastly differing methods of instruction.” Talking to Adults in this world always makes me break out the vocab words for some reason. 

Claude is raising his eyebrows at me from behind Hanneman. I gesture at him to get out of the classroom. 

“So for tomorrow,” I continue. “I’ll just take my class down to the training hall in the morning?”

“That would be the most logical course of action!” 

Hanneman finally leaves, but Annette hangs back. “What’s up?”

Annette jumps. “Um... I just... I want to join your class!” She bows. “Please!”

I resist the urge to cheer out loud. Since her birthday, I’ve run into Annette while gardening a few more times, and always made a point to chat with her a bit and Raise those Support Points. She’s easy to talk to. I feel like we get along. “We’d be delighted to have you.”

“Oh, thank you so much!” She bows again.

“May I ask why?”

“It’s because... you made learning about history so interesting today,” she explains. “I feel like I’ll be able to learn a lot more things with your guidance. And I trust you!”

I smile at her. “I’m really glad. I look forward to teaching you, Annette.”

“Me too! I mean, learning! I look forward to learning from you!” Annette bows one more time and then runs off in the direction of the dining hall. 

“Congratulations,” Sothis whispers around a yawn. “But you must not get complacent. The discussion today was lively but ultimately futile, as we still have no plan for what to do about Lonato. We will spare the Lord’s life, that much is obvious, but there must be a way to end the aggression and not merely postpone it.”

“We shouldn’t take Catherine with us,” I say, thinking out loud as I walk to the main building of the monastery. “He’ll take that as an insult, since she’s the one who executed Christophe...”

“Or,” Sothis says, “we could talk to her first.”

I stop. “You’re right.” I’ve been avoiding Catherine on account of not knowing how to deal with her, but that’s childish and counterproductive. “I’ll have to find her soon. ... But not right now, I need to prepare emotionally.”

“Invite her to tea,” Sothis orders. I roll my eyes.

I don’t see Catherine around for the rest of the day, and then it’s time for our weekly little Art Club meeting. 

I’ve gotten my hands on a pocket watercolor set (half-pans, not tubes, since tube paints have yet to be invented here), cold-press paper, and a set of chalky colored pencils. I bought Dedue some chalk pastels as a gift (even though I know he’d never switch to my class, the kid deserves nice things) and they’re nice, as soft as the most expensive brand I remember trying in college. We meet at the front gates as usual, and then head off to a spot Ignatz found last week, a grove of trees next to a small pond about a mile out from the monastery. 

“So uh, class today was interesting, Professor,” Ignatz says as we walk down the hill. Bernadetta and Dedue have no interest in contributing to a conversation, but Ignatz gets nervous if it’s too quiet for too long, unless he’s painting. 

“Indeed,” says Dedue, to my surprise.

“Oh! Thank you both.” I turn to Bernadetta. “We had a combined discussion class with the Blue Lions today in preparation for our upcoming mission.”

“Ooh, wow... Two classes in one room together? That sounds.... Terrifying.” Bernie shudders.

“Maybe we should do something with the Black Eagles someday, too. Can’t leave you all out of the loop,” I muse. 

Bernie squeaks. “Make sure to tell me when, so I can... definitely come to class that day!”

“We just talked about our mission and how to deal with Lord Lonato,” Ignatz says. “It was kind of fun!”

Dedue nods. I think this is probably the most I’m getting out of him on the subject. 

We reach the pond and settle in. Ignatz unfolds his easel and placing his half-finished oil-on-panel landscape on top. Bernadetta flips open her journal. Dedue takes out his pastels and drawing pad. 

I’m working on watercolor sketch cards of all my students so I have personalized birthday gifts for the future. Lorenz’s birthday is in a few days, so I wet my brush with the pond water and dab it in the violet paint.

For the next hour, the only sounds are the birds singing in the trees, and pencils scratching against paper. It’s relaxing. It’s calm.

Sothis pops into my head to let me know an hour has passed, something I asked her to do for me since I found out she has a built-in clock. “We should start packing up if we want to be back at the monastery in time for dinner,” I say, standing up and dusting the dirt off my knees. “Does anyone want to share what they’re working on today?”

“I’m still not done,” Ignatz sighs, frowning at his pond painting. 

“I only have preliminary sketches for a larger piece,” Dedue says.

Bernadetta pulls her journal closer to herself. “I’m not sharing if nobody else is going to!”

I take out my watercolor card. “I’m still working on the birthday cards I started last week.”

“It looks nice,” Ignatz says diplomatically. The discussion peters off there, though. We pack up our supplies and start heading back.

“Um, Professor,” Bernadetta begins, twisting the buttons on her jacket nervously. “I was wondering, um... can I invite someone else to join this club?”

“Uh, sure. The more the merrier! Who is it?”

“Um, uh... Lady Edelgard.” She rushes the words out like she’s afraid I’ll punish her for even saying Edelgard’s name. 

Dedue stops walking, and Ignatz flinches. Bernadetta wilts at their reactions. “Ahhhh, I knew this was a bad idea, stupid Bernie, why did I even suggest—”

“Bernadetta, calm down, no one said anything yet,” I interrupt. “Why did you ask?”

“I ran into her on my way to the gate today, and she asked me where I was going, so I told her, and she said it sounded like fun and could I ask you if it would be okay for her to join, and I said I’d ask, so I asked, I’m  _ sorry, _ ” Bernadetta wails. “I shouldn’t have told her anything! I’m sorry!!”

“Bernadetta, it’s okay!” I try to calm her down, but I’m wary of touching her still. It seems like that might scare her more. “And um... I don’t... mind Edelgard joining this club? So long as she sticks to drawing, there shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

Ignatz nods. “I don’t have anything against her personally, but the fact that she’s the leader of the Black Eagles leaves me a bit uneasy. Still, if Professor Byleth thinks it won’t be a problem, then I agree with the Professor.”

Aww. I turn to Dedue. “And what do you think?”

Dedue shrugs. “My opinion on the matter is irrelevant.” He starts walking again, and I have to walk faster to keep up with his long strides.

“But...” I prompt.

“But, I am also uncomfortable with Lady Edelgard joining, for the same reason,” Dedue admits.

Bernadetta sighs. I wonder if she actually wants Edelgard to be here, or if she’s just afraid to oppose her. “Okay, I’ll talk to Edelgard after dinner today and see if we can come up with something that’ll work for everyone. What if I invite Dimitri and Claude too, so it’s fair?”

“His Highness cannot draw,” Dedue says bluntly. “His strength makes fine detail work difficult for him, so he avoids it.”

“Well, it’s never too late to learn!”

Ignatz shrugs. “I’m not that close with Claude, for all that we’re in the same house. I’m sure he’d find it interesting?”

We return to the monastery by dinnertime, and I have a new mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not super satisfied w/this one but also, do not want to look at it again, so here u go  
> thank u to hannah for the fine arts advice I only sort of used sfdghsfdg  
> also since I put this chapter and last week's chapter out a bit faster than usual I have decided to take a break from working on this for a little while I do Other Things. at 45k even this is already the longest fic I've ever done lol. will probably update again before the end of the month! maybe, we'll see


	15. Chapter 15

I need to talk to  _ so many _ people, I think as I get in line for dinner. The house leaders, Catherine, birthday tea for Lorenz, and then Seteth asked me to do something on my next day off, and the combined Blue Lions/Golden Deer training class got moved to next week because Hanneman had to cover for Manuela on the day we first scheduled it for, and there’s just two more weeks until the big mission and we have to do at least one practice battle before then... Everything is piling up into an unmanageable mountain and no one’s invented color-coded planners yet. I want to scream, but I can’t. 

“Calm down,” Sothis scolds me. “You will be fine.”

_ You can’t promise that!  _ I tell her furiously inside my head, and then smile at the dining staff who give me my Gronder Meat Skewers. I miss pizza, I think as I stare at the Skewers. They taste pretty good, but not like home.

“How’s it going, Teach?” Claude greets me as I sit down. Edelgard and Dimitri nod at me from across the table.

Asking people for things is the second worst type of conversation to have, I decide, right after arguing with people about things. So I will put that off as long as I can. “It’s going well,” I say. “How are you?”

“Better now that you’re here.” He winks, and I roll my eyes.

“Edelgard, Dimitri, how were your days? Highs and lows?”

“My highest point of the day was beating Felix in a sparring match for once,” Dimitri says, and lowest point was...” He frowns, and I can suddenly see the shadow of post-time-skip feral Dimitri in that expression. “I’d rather not share, today. It’s... a personal matter.”

“Of course. Please don’t feel pressured,” I say quickly. I can’t help but wonder, though. Is it related to the Lonato situation? “Who’s next?”

“I’ll go,” Claude jumps in. “High point was sharing research with Linhardt and actually making some progress in figuring out several major questions about our beloved Teach’s role in this monastery.”

“Great,” I say, forcing a smile. My one fear, coming true before my very eyes. At this rate they’ll probably figure out my real identity before the White Heron Cup. Or unlock the Abyss! I don’t know where this investigation is going to end up leading them, but I’ll try to think positively about it. “And your lowest point?”

“Hm... I guess Lysithea kicking my butt in training today. She made me fight her again, axe against sword, and I barely won that one.”

“Lysithea improves so quickly,” I agree. “She’s terrifying. I’m so glad she’s in our house.”

Edelgard scowls at this. Maybe she tried to get Lysithea to switch to the Black Eagles or something. “Edelgard, highs and lows?”

Edelgard sips her water. “Highest point was seeing Bernadetta leave her room for once.” She gives me a significant look, then continues, tone light and casual. “Lowest... I saw a rat on the grounds today and may have overreacted a bit. I don’t like rats much.”

“Understandable.” It sounds like she’s hiding something, but I still don’t know her well enough to call her on it. 

I don’t particularly want to anyway. I’m still feeling overwhelmed, and the sensation spreads through my body to the ends of my fingertips, making my left hand shake slightly as I pick up another skewer. Ughhhh. I’d been experiencing less intense anxiety in this universe, despite the considerably higher immediate threat level of the surrounding world. I assumed Byleth’s body nullified any physical responses I could have to stress, but the way I’m feeling now, like my worrying is strangling my insides, means it’s all in my own horrible head after all! Fun.

“Professor, are you alright?” Dimitri asks, snapping me out of my thoughts. 

I blink. It appears that the three of them had been talking for a few minutes while I was zoning out. “I’m fine. There’s just... a lot going on.” I’m surprised Dimitri was the one who said something about it, considering how fragile his own mental stability is on a day-to-day basis.

Claude looks worried, which is terrible. Might as well bring up the Art Club stuff now. I poke my dessert pastry with a fork. “So Bernadetta said something interesting to me today,” I begin. “Edelgard, you want to join the Art Club?”

“If you’ll have me,” she says, lowering her gaze.

“Why do you sound like Teach just proposed?” Claude snickers. 

I glare at him and speak louder. “ _ Anyway,  _ I am extending the invitation to Claude and Dimitri as well, because Ignatz and Dedue both said they would be more comfortable in a club with their house leaders present.”

“I apologize, Professor,” Dimitri says, “but I cannot draw.”

I smile tightly. “So I’ve heard. But here’s the thing: it’s never too late to start!”

“The strength my Crest gives me makes it... difficult,” Dimitri sighs. Who does he think he is, Equius Homestuck? He has the color scheme for it. I’m getting distracted. 

I put my fork down. “If you practice doing delicate work, your aim and precision in battle will improve as well, and you might find a new way to express yourself and relax.”

Dimitri looks conflicted. I turn to Claude. “And what do you think?”

“I’d love nothing more than to spend more time with this lovely trio we have here,” Claude says, winking exaggeratedly. “But while I don’t have Dimitri’s excuse of superhuman strength, I am also not much of a visual artist myself. Not to mention that I have projects of my own I’m working on in my spare time.”

“It’s an hour a week, Claude, I’m sure the mysteries of Fodlan can spare you for that long. You don’t have to draw if you don’t want to, although I think it’d be good for you to try it out.”

Claude leans back in his chair as far as it can go without tipping over, crossing his arms behind his head. “Well, if Teach is asking, how can I say no?”

My shoulders sag in relief. “Dimitri, are you in?”

Dimitri still looks uncomfortable, but it’s three against one now so he has no real choice but to concede. “I suppose I can try it out once. You mentioned Dedue was involved in this activity? Then I’m sure it will be a worthwhile pursuit.”

“Great!” The frantic racing feeling eases a bit. One item off the checklist. “Glad that’s settled.”

I put it out of my mind until I walk into Hubert on my way back to my room. I’m looking around to see if I can spot the elusive Catherine anywhere instead of watching where I’m going, and end up crashing directly into Hubert’s surprisingly solid chest.

“I’m very sorry,” I apologize immediately.

“No harm done,” Hubert replies, adjusting his jacket. “Actually, perfect timing. I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Professor.”

“About what?” I never talk to Hubert. He doesn’t speak up much in Swords class, and I don’t tend to run into him very often otherwise. I can’t recruit him to join my house, so I didn’t bother trying too hard to bond with him. Since I don’t really know how to interact with this kid, my anxiety spikes further.

Hubert doesn’t seem to notice my fidgeting, and continues. “You see, Lady Edelgard has taken something of an interest in you.”

I blink. It’s Hubert’s C-support! But I’m not in Edelgard’s house? How did I unlock this? 

“Wait, is this about the art club thing?” I blurt out. There goes the script. “Are you worried about her participating in an activity you’re not invited to?”

He gives me a long, appraising look. “One of my many duties is to determine potential advantages and potential threats to Her Highness. If you prove yourself useful to Lady Edelgard, then all will be well. If you pose a threat...I shall have to dispose of you.”

Hm. He’s scarier in person, sure, but still not that scary. I have a goddess living in my head, what are you going to do, kill her too? 

“Art Club will be useful,” I assure him instead of saying anything stupider. “Edelgard can develop closer friendships with other students in a non-competitive settings, express herself creatively, relax and decompress. Not to mention that bonding more with Bernadetta would make it easier to get her to participate in class events and things, which would be great for you. I don’t believe Edelgard will be in any danger on our nature outings, and she is more than capable of protecting herself against any situation that could arise.”

Hubert looks taken aback by this. I don’t think he expected me to have an actual answer prepared.

I smile at him. “Please don’t try to threaten me in the future. It’s disrespectful.”

Hubert smiles back, looking like he’s not particularly accustomed to doing so. “I will take that under advisement, if you take my words under advisement as well. Have a good evening, Professor.”

“You too.”

Well, I’ve survived two mildly uncomfortable interactions in a row, might as well make it a streak.  _ Sothis, can you tell me where Catherine is? _

Sothis sniffs, arms crossed across her chest. “Find her yourself, I’m not your assistant.”

I roll my eyes and go to the training hall, the likeliest location at this point. My luck continues! I see Catherine, demonstrating some kind of move to Caspar. 

I feel like he shouldn’t be moving around so much this soon after dinner, but that’s not really my problem. I smile and wave at Caspar anyway. He’s a sweet kid. He asks after Linhardt a lot, but hasn’t offered to switch classes and join his best friend yet.

“Here to train?” Catherine says, greeting me. “You really are as hardworking as they say.”

I have no idea who “they” could be in this case considering how much of my free time I spend dicking around hosting art clubs and tea parties, but I’ll take it. “It’s really my students that are the hard workers, I’m just helping them as best as I can.”

“Spoken like a true hard worker.” Catherine smiles approvingly. I shift my weight back and flip Byleth’s fluffy blue hair over one shoulder, feeling a bit self-conscious from her attention.

I take a deep breath and remind myself to not stutter. “So, Catherine, may I speak with you privately for a minute? It’s about the upcoming mission.”

“Sure thing. Let’s go for a walk.”

We step out of the training hall and loop around the sauna towards the courtyards.

“So...” I don’t know where to start. “I heard you were in the Blue Lions when you were a student?”

“That’s correct.” We keep walking. I can feel the uneven rocks of the path through the soles of my boots, and I focus on that feeling as I try to come up with a polite way to continue the conversation.

“Meaning you’re from Faerghus originally?”

“Naturally. What do you really want to know?” Catherine says, blunt and to the point, and I flinch involuntarily. Where’s Byleth’s Trademark Stoic Demeanor when I need it?

“I know you turned Christophe, Lord Lonato’s son, over to the Church to be executed,” I say quietly. There are students and servants scattered all over the grounds at this hour, chatting or cleaning or just relaxing in the sun’s last rays, but no one is paying any attention to us, unlike in the training hall where every sound echoes all over the room.

Catherine nods. I continue. “I’m worried that your presence on the mission will be seen by Lord Lonato as a threat, and affect our ability to resolve the situation without unnecessary bloodshed.”

Catherine stops short suddenly. “Have you forgotten, Professor, that your class’s mission is to accompany the Knights of Seiros, and not the other way around? My loyalty is to Lady Rhea and the Church above all else. If you don’t want me on this mission, you’ll have to take it up with Lady Rhea, not me.”

“That’s not necessarily what I meant,” I interrupt. “I was thinking... you could apologize to Lord Lonato? Formally? And that would help a lot. I think.” Oh jeez, I sound like an idiot. I used up all my confidence too fast.

Catherine stares at me, tilting her chin up. “I am an instrument of the Church. It was my duty to deliver Christophe to justice for what he did.” She starts walking back in the direction of the training hall. 

I have to run a little to keep up. “I heard... I heard that Christophe might not have been involved in the Duscur incident. That he was falsely implicated.”

“You clearly don’t have the full story.” Catherine rolls her eyes. “Christophe was my friend at the academy, but I had no choice but to turn him in. I won’t apologize for doing what needed to be done.”

“But can you at least agree that we should try to reach a peaceful agreement first? For the Church?”

“How would that help the Church?” Catherine turns to look at me quizzically, before pulling open the heavy wooden doors of the training hall.

“Resolving a situation peacefully instead of resorting to force would raise public opinion and increase trust in the Church of Seiros’s authority and ability to resolve conflicts.” 

“Hm.” 

I wait for Catherine to elaborate. 

“You should bring this up with Lady Rhea,” she says after a moment. “I doubt she will take kindly to you doing whatever you feel like on this mission.”

I can’t hold back a sigh; there is nothing I want to do less than disagree with Rhea about her orders. She might smite me or something...

“She can try,” Sothis scoffs, hovering over Catherine’s head. “Do not worry, child. If my daughter threatens you in any way, I will use my powers to deal with the situation.”

_ Don’t you usually tell me to solve my own problems off the battlefield? _

“She is my child, although I do not remember this firsthand. Therefore, she is my responsibility.”

_ Oh. Well, thank you for that.  _

I bid Catherine farewell and return to my room. Lorenz’s birthday, joint training session, and Seteth’s request for my next day off are all still upcoming concerns, and talking to Rhea has been added to the list now, but I got three whole uncomfortable conversations cleared out in one evening. I’ve earned a nice cup of tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao is it still projection if it's a self-insert character  
> sorry abt the wait for this one  
> next chapter coming... eventually


	16. Chapter 16

Lorenz holds his teacup up to his nose, cautiously sniffing the steam. “What is this blend, professor? I’m getting... Bergamot, with notes of Seiros Tea and lavender? The lightness of the bergamot and lavender balanced with the Seiros... Most unusual.”

I nod and pour a cup for myself. “I made it myself, just to try it out.” It doesn’t taste exactly like the Earl Grey I miss from home, but it’s close enough. “Happy birthday, Lorenz.”

Behind Lorenz’s shoulder, Claude and Hilda are sharing a cake of their own. Claude is making faces at me for some reason. I decide to ignore them and give Lorenz the watercolor I made of him.

“Oh my. This is lovely. I had no idea you were so artistically inclined, Professor.”

Ugh. Lorenz doesn’t set off my alarms the same way Sylvain does, but there’s still that hint of sliminess in how he interacts with women, like we’re all means to an end. “Thank you,” I say instead. 

What the fuck am I supposed to talk about with Lorenz. I could bring up classes or the mission, but I’m honestly kind of sick of thinking about it. Wait, I’m an idiot, we already have one big thing in common.

“So how come you know so much about tea?” I ask him.

“Proper etiquette at tea time is one of the surest hallmarks of quality breeding. And the extent of one's attentiveness is quite often indicative of the depth of one's character.,” Lorenz begins. 

I get the sense that he can keep going on this topic for a while, so I interrupt with, “I see! Do you grow tea in Gloucester county, or is it imported?”

“We grow certain strains, yes. Gloucester is known for its agriculture and cattle-breeding, and the Count personally works to develop new foods for the Alliance.” 

I listen to Lorenz talk about tea cultivation for a few more minutes. Turns out Lorenz is actually pretty fun to talk to if I make sure to keep him away from the subject of What Nobles Should Be Like. 

Eventually, though, we exhaust the subject of tea, so I throw out another topic of conversation. “What kind of books do you like to read? Sylvain let me borrow  _ The Rose of Enbarr,  _ and I just finished it yesterday. Have you read that one?”

I asked Sylvain for book recommendations after his birthday tea party, and he told me the novels in the monastery library were “way too boring” but he had a few titles in his personal collection I might like.  _ The Rose of Enbarr _ is about the forbidden romance between a scullery maid and the noblewoman she serves, in a vaguely old-fashioned prose style that reminds me of Sarah Waters. I’m both surprised and somewhat annoyed at how well Sylvain was able to predict my tastes. 

Lorenz shakes his head. I can almost hear the Wrong Conversation Topic noise as he says, “I must confess I do not read much for pleasure myself... It is important for a noble to be educated in subjects that will help him govern effectively, but I suppose my cultural education is... somewhat lacking.” He looks like admitting this is causing him physical pain. Whoooops.

“I’m not too familiar with fine literature myself, but I enjoyed reading  _ The Rose of Enbarr. _ ” I need to change the subject. “What... do you like? Besides tea?”

“I quite like music,” Lorenz says after a thoughtful pause. “I saw this opera once in Derdriu, and...”

“I think that went pretty well,” I tell Sothis after Lorenz leaves. 

I go up to Claude and Hilda with the leftover pastries. “Do you two want any of this? And did you wish Lorenz a happy birthday today, seeing as he is a member of your house?” 

“Of course I did, Teach, I’m not a monster,” Claude retorts. “I gave him a floral adornment from the marketplace, he likes that sort of thing.”

“Well _I_ gave Lorenz a handmade brooch that perfectly complements the silk rose he’s always wearing,” Hilda contributes. “It wasn’t really my style, but I thought Lorenz would like it. Did you notice him wearing it, Professor?”

“I wasn’t paying attention,” I admit. “But I’m sure it looks very nice.”

“It does,” Claude says. “Hilda’s a genius at jewelry design.” 

Hilda smacks him on the arm. “Anyway! I didn’t know you could paint, Professor! I would love to get a card like that, wink wink.”

“For your birthday,” I promise her. “And since Fe— your birthday is so far away, yours will probably look even better since I’ll have more time to practice.” 

“So your gift for me next moon will just be practice for Hilda's gift?” Claude interrupts with a smirk.

“That’s not — you know what I mean!”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Sothis hisses for my ears alone, “This moon is garland moon, then blue sea moon, rain moon, horsebow moon, wyvern moon, red wolf moon, ethereal moon, guardian moon, pegasus moon, lone moon, great tree moon, harpstring moon!”

_ With all due respect, how the flying fuck is anyone supposed to memorize that. Genuine question, is there a mnemonic I can use to learn it?  _

“Surely you have the strength of character to memorize the twelve moons without needing assistance,” Sothis says. She sounds so smug. How infuriating.

_ I’ll just refer to the months— I mean moons by numbers forever, then!  _

Sothis sticks her tongue out at me over Hilda’s shoulder.

For the joint battle training class we’re having with the Blue Lions, we can’t all fit into the training hall building, so we end up going to an empty field I found in my Art Club sojourns and playing a modified version of Capture-the-Flag on the basis that a full-blown mock battle would be unfair to the Black Eagles, who aren’t participating. Hanneman and I spent an entire evening coming up with ideas on how to make this interesting but at the same time productive. It bears a very faint resemblance to the game I remember from grade school gym class, but should go over well with these kids.

“It feels kind of strange to be on the opposite side this time,” Annette muses. “I don’t think it fully sunk in that I’ve switched classes until I had to see everyone from my old class again.”

“You get used to it,” Sylvain says.

Annette fits in well with the Golden Deer, but she fits in well anywhere. Lysithea is thrilled to have a study partner she doesn’t want to murder half of the time.

“We’ll have the Battle of the Eagle and Lion later in the year, so this is going to be something more... educationally directed,” I say, fully aware of how completely nonsensical those words sound coming out of my mouth. 

So we mark two circles on the overgrown grass approximately a soccer field’s length apart, and stick a Blue Lions flag in one and a Golden Deer flag in the other. 

“You have twenty minutes to steal your opponent’s flag. You can’t go inside your own team’s circle, you have to defend it from outside. If your flag is stolen before time is up, you can steal it back. Whoever has the flag at the end of the time limit wins. For the first round, anything goes.”

“Professor, are you sure this is fair? Your class has three more people than we have,” Ingrid points out. The “since you stole two of our students” goes unsaid.

“In real battles, you’re often outnumbered against your opponents,” I say. “It’s important to learn how to compensate for that.” Also, if we’re being honest, Linhardt is barely useful in a battle situation if I can’t shove him around like a chess piece on a board. Annette tries, but she doesn’t have Lysithea’s raw power, and Sylvain can’t take class time seriously.

Hanneman flips the 20-minute hourglass over. “Start!” We retreat to top of a low bluff on the edge of the field and watch the chaos unfold.

Felix and Lysithea start sprinting towards the opposite team’s flag immediately, while their house leaders yell at them in despair to slow down and plan first. Mercedes, Dedue, Hilda and Marianne shift into defensive positions around their respective flags also immediately. 

“It’s interesting how even though their actual battle experience is still fairly limited at this point, the students have developed a sense of what role they’re most suited to in a fight,” I tell Hanneman.

He chuckles. “Many of these students have been training for a long time. I heard that in Faerghus, most children start swinging lances and swords around before they can even read. Ah, but I’m sure it was the same for you as well, growing up in a company of mercenaries and all.”

I nod hastily.

By the time the hourglass runs out, both teams have successfully defended their flags. Or, somewhat successfully, the Blue Lions’s pole is snapped near the base because Lysithea refused to let go when Ashe tried to take it from her. Claude still tells her off for being too impulsive, and pulls her, Sylvain, Leonie and Lorenz into a huddle to work out a strategy for the next round.

“Great job, everyone. We’re doing this again: same rules apply, except there’s one more condition now: everyone using a physical weapon must defend their flag, and everyone using magic must attack the opposing team’s flag. You have five minutes to strategize. Go!”

Annette wins the round for the Golden Deer by ripping the Blue Lions flag out of the ground and flinging it over to the opposite end of the field with her wind spell. 

“Incredible job, Annette,” I congratulate her. She beams.

“For this round, switch: physical weapons are attacking, and magic users defending. Five minutes to plan. Go!”

We keep trying different weird ideas, some of which I came up with, and some of which Hanneman came up with. Mostly I want to get them running around and thinking creatively in a non-lethal setting.

“For the last capture the flag exercise, the special condition will be: you can’t speak Fodlanish to each other. You have five minutes to figure out how to communicate with your teammates before this rule goes into effect. Begin!”

I’m impressed at how quickly the Blue Lions work out a hand gesture system, but the Golden Deer really surprise me by remembering and using the “Albinean” I taught them. I feel the intense combination of embarrassment and responsibility that comes with seeing someone apply a skill you taught them. “Oh jeez, something I did had an impact” combined with “what if I taught them all wrong.”

They don’t say anything too complicated, just “attack” and “counter,” “forward” and “back,” but it’s still enough to disorient the Blue Lions. And poor Annette, who’s had exactly a week to catch up on a month and a half’s worth of semi-secret foreign language lessons.

Dimitri waves his arms agitatedly, presumably to communicate “What is this?”

“Golden Deer secret,” Claude replies with a wink. His hair is sticking to his forehead.

A small secret for a big group, I think to myself. “Claude, no Fodlanish! That’s a penalty. You can’t move from that spot for the next five minutes.” I flip the five-minute hourglass over again. Claude pouts.

We finally break for lunch. I pass out containers of drinking water for everyone as we walk back to the monastery. “It’s hot out today. Hydration is important!”

“Today was fun,” Leonie offers, draining her water in one big gulp. 

“I enjoyed the different goals and challenges,” Mercedes says, voice too serene for someone who nearly set Raphael on fire with a Bolganone. 

“What do you say to having more classes like this in the future?” Hanneman poses to the group at large. He’s met with cheering, which surprises me. I didn’t think anyone felt that strongly about Capture the Flag, But with Wooden Swords This Time. 

“We should invite the Black Eagles to join us, at least once,” Dimitri says. “I don’t think Edelgard would appreciate being left out of the fun.”

No concrete plans are made, however, and the subject doesn’t come up again until the first weekly Art Club meeting featuring all three house leaders.

Bernadetta bunches herself up against the trunk of a tree. Edelgard, perhaps feeling some sense of responsibility for her housemate, sits next to her, which causes Bernadetta to loosen her shoulders the smallest fraction. 

Dimtri and Dedue sit back to back in a way that suggests they’ve done this a million times before, Dedue working away at his landscape drawing and Dimitri attempting to handle a stick of charcoal without shattering it. He's drawing circles all over his paper, but they look pretty circular.

Ignatz sets up his easel and painting supplies with practiced ease, and gets to work like Claude isn’t even there. Claude shrugs and plunks down next to me at the edge of the pond. I glance at him, then get my pencils out.

Since Edelgard’s birthday is next, I have to finish her watercolor sketch card in my room so she doesn’t see me working on it. Caspar’s birthday isn’t until the first of next month, so I don’t have to start that now. Which means I’m sitting on the grass with my sketchbook open to a blank page and nothing on it. 

“Don’t know what to draw?” Claude asks, peering over my shoulder. I elbow him. “You could always draw me.” He’s working on some kind of map I can’t decipher. Which is technically drawing. I guess it counts. 

“Haha.” I roll my eyes. 

Claude takes this as his cue to stand up and stretch a bit. He walks around peeking at everybody’s work, until Bernadetta slams her sketchbook shut with a panicked yelp. “That looks really good, Bernadetta!”

She glares at him sullenly until Claude raises his arms in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay, I get the hint.”

He wanders over to look at Edelgard’s page. “Oh, Teach! Edelgard’s drawing— mph!” Edelgard shoves a hand over his mouth. Interesting.

I get up and go over to them. “Professor, please don’t look!” Edelgard yells at me, with desperation and embarrassment in her eyes. I catch a glimpse of a detailed pencil sketch featuring a familiar head. 

“... Alrighty then,” I say after a moment, and sit back down. It’s strange. Edelgard was drawing Byleth’s features, but something about the face reminded me of the face I had before... all of this.

Without thinking too much about it, I start doodling my face the way I used to draw it in my comics: circle outline, round dot eyes, big triangle nose, arched brows. Simple, easy to repeat. I add a few lines to indicate the haircut I’d had before I landed in Byleth’s body with the perfectly tousled hair that never falls in my eyes despite all laws of physics.

“Hmm,” Claude says. 

I elbow him again. “What are you hmm-ing about?”

“This face you drew... something about it feels familiar, but I’m not sure what. It doesn’t look like anyone at the monastery...” It shouldn’t. I looked nothing like Byleth before this.

“Perhaps it reminds you of someone you’ve met before?” 

“Maybe...” Claude flips his map over and makes a note on the back.

Sothis lets me know when the hour had passed, and we return to the monastery without any major fuss. 

“Same time next week?” I ask.

Everyone agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no one asked but I read like 4 wikipedia pages abt tea cultivation bc I could not figure out where their tea COMES FROM  
> Also, did you know: sylvain likes to talk abt “the library's collection” at teatime but lorenz does not. what a nerd  
> I added Another song to the middle of the playlist, I keep messing with it, sorry about that, I was just reminded of something and decided to put it in there


	17. Chapter 17

On our next free day, I take up Seteth’s request to have someone deal with bandits in a town to the north. “Think of this as practice for future missions. Aim to incapacitate and retrieve the stolen goods.” It’s a noticeably easier fight than the mission we had at the Red Canyon, or maybe my students just improved enough for it to seem like that. Everyone is moving more confidently, attacking first and attacking fast. I’m proud of them. We make it back to the monastery before lunchtime, and I cancel the weekly Albinean seminar to give them a chance to rest and recover.

“Well done,” Seteth says after my report. In the game you got a reward of some kind after completing quests, but here it’s just part of my job. Still, I can turn the situation to my advantage.

“Uh, Mr. Seteth, sir...” I say, hesitantly. Seteth raises his eyebrows. I can hear Sothis smacking her forehead. I’m trying to be polite! “I have a small favor to ask of you as well.”

I explain the situation with Lonato and Catherine. “So I understand that Catherine is one of the best knights you have, but I believe that her presence would cause the situation to escalate to greater violence than necessary. I would like to ask Lady Rhea if it would be possible to replace Catherine on the mission with somebody else.”

“And you want me to ask the Archbishop for you, I suppose.” Seteth does not sound particularly moved by this. My heart sinks a little as I nod meekly. I throw in a bow for good measure.

He frowns, looking put-upon. I instantly feel like a middle schooler getting yelled at in class. “Miss Eisner. Though the Archbishop is willing to entrust overseeing the Knights of Seiros to me and seeks my counsel on many things, the structure of a mission is not something she is likely to change to accomodate a brand-new professor’s whims.”

“It’s not a whim, I just gave you my reasons—”

“Shut up,” Sothis tries to smack my arm, forgetting that she can’t touch anything in this form for a moment.

“The mission will go ahead as planned,” Seteth says, and starts walking away from me. I speed up my walk to try and keep up.

“But could you ask the Archbishop, please? Just. Maybe she hadn’t thought of the connection between Catherine and Lord Lonato before. Maybe... Maybe Jeralt or Alois could go instead? There has to be something we can do...”

Seteth sighs. “I shall bring up the subject with the Archbishop since you’re so insistent, but I make no guarantees that you’ll get your wish. You’ve only been here a few months, Professor. There is much you have yet to learn about how we do things here in the church.”

He makes this place sound like a goddamn cult.

“I understand. Thank you for agreeing to talk to her for me anyway. I apologize for overstepping.” I step back and bow some more. Seteth nods, seemingly satisfied.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” He walks off. 

I plunk down right on the grass in defeat. Fuck. Now what?

“He said he’ll talk to Rhea,” Sothis points out. “Do not write this encounter off completely. But also, why not go and talk to Rhea on your own?”

“You saw how that just went, right? If I can’t even convince Seteth, Rhea’s going to kill me. Or worse, switch my class’s mission with someone else’s. Or fire me! Lots of things Rhea could do.”

“Teach, who are you talking to?”

Claude leans over me as I lie flat on my back against the courtyard grass. Wordlessly, I tap the ground next to me. He sits down with his legs crossed, facing me. “What’s got you all...” He gestures.

“Ugh.” I summarize the situation with Catherine and Seteth and Rhea. “And now I don’t know what to do.”

“Seems obvious to me.” 

I push myself up with one arm to get a better look at him. Claude grins. I flop back on the grass as he continues. “Wait for Seteth to talk to Rhea. Barreling through without his approval would definitely sour relations with Seteth in the future, and probably the Archbishop as well. You asked him to handle it for you, so let him. I read somewhere that letting people do things for you makes them like you, even more than the other way around.”

“I read that somewhere too,” I admit. Claude reaches a hand out to help me up, but I swat it away and sit up, pulling my knees to my chest. “I  _ hate _ waiting.”

“I know,” says Claude. “You always sigh whenever you see a long line at the dining hall.”

“Do I really? I’ve never noticed.” It tracks, though. I don’t understand why Garreg Mach’s dining hall is so inefficiently set up.

“I notice everything,” Claude tells me.

“Planning on discovering all of my secrets, are you?” 

“Maybe I am.” He winks. I roll my eyes.

“Anyway.” Claude stands up, dusting off his knees. “I was on my way to the library to help Ignatz with tactics for a bit before dinner. Feel free to join us, I’m sure you’d be much better at explaining the concepts than I am.”

I read Jeralt’s tactics primer cover to cover three times, taking notes, and I still find the whole thing confusing and unintuitive. My Authority lectures focus heavily on leadership skills, public speaking, and dragging in members of the Knights of Seiros as “guest speakers” whenever I can get away with it. “I believe in you,” I say instead. “And I should go check on my plants in the greenhouse anyway.” I jump to my feet. “Have fun, though! I’ll see you at dinner.”

I make Edelgard bergamot tea for her birthday, and gift her a bouquet of red flowers I forgot the name of as well as the watercolor sketchcard. Watercolor was never a medium I was particularly good at, and my stylized cartoony technique is very different from the 18th-century-Neoclassical-vibes portrait realism in vogue here. But Sothis assured me it does look kind of like Edelgard.

“You painted this?” Edelgard gasps. “It’s...it’s me!” She stares at the paper rectangle like it’s a super rare CG from a gacha game. “This is... no one has ever made something for me before. Not like this.” She pulls it up close to her face, inspecting every detail.

“I’m glad you like it!” I tell her, and take a sip of tea. It tastes too sour and kind of like soap without the black tea to temper it, but it’s Edelgard’s favorite, so I endure. 

Dimitri and Claude are once again sitting at a table some distance away, sharing their own pot of tea. Claude catches my eye and winks. I ignore it.

Edelgard is still staring at the dumb sketchcard. It shouldn’t be that special. Didn’t Bernie draw her something for her birthday too? I did remind everybody in Art Club about upcoming birthdays...

“Are you okay?” I finally ask.

Edelgard startles, dropping the card. Her face looks flushed. I don’t comment on it. “I’m fine, Professor.”

“Well, Happy birthday, again.”

She smiles wanly. “Thank you. And thank you for remembering my favorite tea.” She looks off to the side, face suddenly somber. “Birthdays for me... evoke mixed emotions.”

I take a sip of tea. This seems delicate. I don’t know if I should push her or step back. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Edelgard sighs, then lowers her voice. I have to lean forward to hear her. “I once had ten siblings, eight older and two younger. Such a large family, and yet I became the heir to the throne. Do you know why? Every last one of them was crippled by disease or lost their mind or died. I was the only one left who could inherit the throne.”

“That’s awful,” I say. It sounds so much more painful coming from a person across a table from me instead of pixels on a screen. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“In the end, I was the only one who survived.” She lets out a bitter, sharp chuckle. “The only one who lived to see her eighteenth birthday.”

She stands up. “Hm... I shared more than I intended to. I’ve never told anyone about my past before. Thank you for the tea and the gifts, Professor.” She turns to leave, cape swishing after her.

“Um. You’re welcome,” I say. “And uh, if you ever need to talk about anything — I know you’re not in my house but —”

Edelgard turns back around, smiling again. “I know. For some reason, I trust you.” She walks off.

Huh. Edelgard trusts me.

I wonder if I can use that somehow, I think, and immediately feel horribly guilty for even considering manipulating her. Then I remember she’s the Flame Emperor, so maybe I should be doing that.

There’s still some tea left in the pot, so I pour myself the remains and ponder this development.

Seteth calls me to the Archbishop’s chambers a few days later. Catherine is also present. Rhea stands at the far end of the vast, vaulted space and smiles pleasantly as she greets me. “I’ve been informed you have concerns about this month’s mission, Professor.”

“I do,” I say, bowing. “I believe that we should strive to resolve the situation without unnecessary bloodshed, and Catherine’s presence would be tantamount to an open declaration of war on Lord Lonato.”

Rhea steps closer, and I get a look into her eyes. It’s chilling. There is nothing behind them. She’s smiling, but feeling nothing at all. Like that guy from American Psycho. “I understand you traveled all over before coming to the monastery, so you might be unaware of this, but the power of the church must be absolute. This mission will demonstrate to the students how foolish it would be to ever turn their blades on the church.”

Why do you need to do that! They’re your students! “So... you don’t want to reach a peaceful resolution with Lord Lonato.”

Rhea keeps smiling.

“Lord Lonato, who is a student’s adoptive father and primary caregiver.”

“He brought this on himself by rebelling,” Catherine interjects.

“You think a  _ student’s parent _ is an acceptable loss.” I know I’m going too far, but I just can’t get over this part. What is wrong with everyone at this hell monastery.

Rhea sighs, sounding like a parent whose unruly toddler is throwing a tantrum over nothing. “I won’t stop you from pursuing a negotiation on the mission itself. As a professor, you may lead your mission to your personal discretion. However, I will not be taking Catherine off of the mission either. She’s one of our strongest knights, not to mention the wielder of Thunderbrand.”

“I won’t let you down, Lady Rhea,” Catherine tells her. To me, she says, “Look, I get it, you’re young, you still believe there’s good in everybody. But sometimes peaceful agreements just can’t be reached.”

Catherine looks like she’s about to ruffle my hair or something. Does she think she’s my older sister now or something? I take an involuntary step back. 

“I don’t mind humoring you and staying in the background while you try negotiating,” Catherine adds, “but if it comes to blows, trust my experience as a Knight.”

I nod. I guess this is the best I could’ve hoped for. I bow again. “Thank you for granting me this audience, Lady Rhea.” I bow to Seteth. “And thank you for talking to Lady Rhea for me first.”

I hope my manners gratify her a little bit.  _ Hey Sothis,  _ I think,  _ can you read Seteth and Rhea’s minds? You’re related to them... _

“Unfortunately for all of us, I can only hear your thoughts. We are directly linked in a way no one else is.” Sothis sounds put out about it, which I understand completely.

_ Sucks.  _

“Indeed.” I bow one last time just for good measure and leave the chamber.

I run into Jeralt on my way downstairs. “Hey kid,” he says. “What’s the matter?”

Oh jeez. Interacting with Jeralt always makes my anxiety spike, and my nerves are already frayed after the shitstorm I just survived. I push Byleth’s features into a neutral expression and mutter, “It’s not a big deal.”

Jeralt stops walking and puts his hand on my shoulder. “People only say that when something is a big deal, kid. What’s up?”

“... Rhea...” I mumble. “She won’t let me lead this month’s mission the way I want to do it.”

“Sounds like her,” Jeralt scoffs. We start walking towards the front gates of the monastery. “Rhea’s always been very...”

“I know.” I nod. “It’s still frustrating.”

A part of me feels tempted to tell him everything, but Jeralt is still pretty much a stranger to me. I don’t have any support conversations to go off of here, or that much backstory. And I don’t really know how to relate to father figures on a personal level. He’s working with the Knights of Seiros too, what if he agrees with Catherine that I’m being too idealistic?

“Well, if the Archbishop’s not coming with you on the mission...” Jeralt pushes open a door and holds it for me to step through. “Can she really stop you?”

“I guess not,” I mumble. “But Catherine is coming and she’s going to do whatever Rhea wants.”

“You can beat Catherine,” Jeralt says, in a tone of ironclad confidence.

I roll my eyes. “Sure.”

“I’m serious. Her Relic is the only thing that’s really outstanding about her. Without it, you’re pretty evenly matched in terms of speed and strength. If it comes to that, I think you could take her.”

Byleth could take her, probably, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to act fast enough.

We reach the pond, and Jeralt sits down at the end of the pier. I notice for the first time that he was carrying a fishing rod.

“Care to join me?” Jeralt asks.

I suddenly feel completely exhausted. “Actually, I think I’ll take a nap before dinnertime. Have fun fishing, though. And uh, thank you.”

I can’t remember if I’m supposed to call him Dad or Father, but both feel wrong and unfamiliar in my mouth. I just nod again and walk back to my room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next update may be delayed bc I started working on a different fanthing that is taking up some of my time but I am considering just skipping to The Mission and getting that over with lol


	18. Chapter 18

On the last day of class before the mission, I make everyone take the certification exams they’re qualified for. It can’t hurt to level up my students some more. 

We brainstorm again for what we could say to Lord Lonato to make him call off the rebellion, and come up empty, again.

“I understand the logic,” Linhardt says around a yawn. “Rhea orders the death of Lonato’s son. The Goddess would never want to kill his son, therefore, Rhea acted against the will of the Goddess and should not be in power. It makes sense.”

“Even if we sympathize with his motives, we can’t let him kill innocent people in pursuit of revenge,” Ignatz points out.

“I guess we’ll just have to figure out what to say when we get there!” I say in a hideously fake cheerful voice. My students do not look convinced. I single out some of them.“Claude, Sylvain, Lorenz, Hilda, I want all of you to stay near me when we approach. You all have the most experience manipu—  _ talking _ to nobles. If I say something wrong, you can help, right?”

“...Sure, Teach,” Claude says, sounding deeply suspicious.

I stand up straighter, trying to project the image of a very confident fighter. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

I stock up on torches in the marketplace before the mission. I remember it being foggy in the game. The trip there is short, no longer than the journey to Zanado the month before. The Knights of Seiros go with us, as well as Jeralt’s Mercenaries and Claude and Hilda’s personal battalions. It’s a big group.

Catherine’s Thunderbrand is impressive in person, but also kind of scary. It looks so real and alive, the dragon bones twitching and pulsing like they’re still attached to a body. It hangs at her side as we cross Magdred Way, shifting with her gait.

“You have ten uses of my Divine Pulse,” Sothis feels the need to remind me. “The moment something seems to go wrong, I’ll turn back the hands of time for you.”

We step into the fog around Castle Gaspard. I hand out torches to everyone, something I never bothered with when playing the game because I always did it on the lowest difficulty setting. “Hilda, Leonie, Sylvain, you three are in front.”

“Catherine, please stay back,” I ask her. “There’s something we need to do first.”

No sooner do I say this than an arrow comes soaring through the dense mist out of nowhere and hits a soldier’s shoulder.

Fuck!

Wait, hold on, I have Divine Pulse. Sothis pulls me back in time just enough to push the soldier out of the path of the arrow, which lodges in the tree behind him.

“Nice reflexes, Teach,” Claude says. I shrug and turn back to the direction the arrow came from — or I think that’s where it came from, it’s hard to tell with all of this fog.

“Lord Lonato doesn't deserve such sadness and anger,” someone, I’m guessing the archer, shouts. “Now it's your turn to suffer!”

“Everyone, prepare for battle,” Catherine orders. 

“No lethal force if you can avoid it,” I add. “We’re aiming to incapacitate but not kill. Just like last time, remember?”

Okay, if I remember correctly, Lord Lonato’s in a strong hold up at the northwest corner of this... area. But I can’t see the whole space at once, I don’t have an overhead view. It’s all fog and trees and  _ enemy soldiers rushing to attack us first _ oh SHIT— 

_ Sothis, can you freeze time for like five seconds? _

“I already told you, I can’t stop time, only change the direction of its flow!”

_ That sucks! This sucks! _

“Why, Lonato?” Ashe asks. “Why did you drag so many others into this?”

I have to stay calm. I’m the teacher. That’s my job. I look around and reassess the situation. The torches are serving their purpose. We can see an archer to the right peering out from behind a tree, and a swordfighter on the other side of a grove.

Lysithea doesn’t hesitate to slam a Miasma Delta at the swordfighter. He falls to the ground from the force of the dark energy. Raphael stands in front of her like a human shield, twice her size and ready to punch.

“Great job,” I tell her. Lysithea nods grimly.

The archer aims another arrow. Leonie, out in front with a torch and keeping in mind what I’d said about no lethal force, kicks him in the nuts. 

I hold up my iron sword. “Claude, Ashe, follow me. We’re going to talk to Lonato.”

We get about halfway to the next cluster of militia men when the fog suddenly lifts. Or rather, it dissolves into the air, scattering like an invisible wind blew it away, leaving us in a clearing full of trees and Lord Lonato’s soldiers now visible. “What happened?” I ask.

Sothis answers first. “Hilda spotted a mage casting a dark spell of some kind, and asked Marianne to cast Silence on the mage before defeating the commander herself.”

Hilda points to where a militia man lies on the ground in mage garb. “Mages are such a pain to deal with— no offense, Lysithea. Marianne’s just the best, though! Thank you, Mari!”

“Ah... it’s not a big deal.” Marianne blushes furiously.

I see a row of fighters lined up ahead of us, ready to attack, and more behind them. Lord Lonato himself is standing on a stronghold, surrounded by his men. I’m not sure how we’ll get through to him.

So I yell.

“Lord Lonato! Sir!” I clear my throat. The axe wielder directly in front of me lowers her axe out of an attack stance, looking perplexed.

“We hereby request an audience with the Lord Lonato to peacefully discuss the matter of this uprising,” I shout as loud as I can, and then bow deeply. Claude follows suit.

The militia men freeze in confusion. They were clearly unprepared for this. We carefully step between them until we’re face to face with the lord himself.

I’m struck by how old he looks, how tired. He’s seated on a horse, armed with a lance and a javelin that I can see, looking every bit the wizened general he’s supposed to be. His face twists with rage when he sees us.

“Rhea is an infidel who has deceived the people and desecrated the goddess! We have virtue and the goddess herself on our side!”

Ashe yells, “Even if all that's true, dragging the townsfolk into it like this isn't right!”

“If that is how you feel, prepare yourself! I'm putting an end to this!”

He aims his javelin at Ashe and —

_ Sothis, take me back,  _ I demand, shutting my eyes so I don’t have to see the worst-case scenario.

Divine Pulse feels like how I imagine a heart attack might feel like, something in my chest squeezing painfully and twisting everything around me into an unrecognizable distortion. I blink, and it’s a minute ago, and Lonato is opening his mouth to yell.

“Rhea is an infidel who has deceived the people and desecrated the goddess! We have virtue and the goddess herself on our side!”

“But you do not have virtue on your side,” I blurt out. 

Lord Lonato turns to me in shock. He’s raising his javelin.

I throw my sword to the ground in front of me and raise both arms in a show of good faith and keep talking, projecting my voice as loud as I can make it. “Your motivations are corrupted by your thirst for revenge after the execution of your son, and this blinds you to the immorality of dragging the townsfolk into your personal problems. No amount of dead Church soldiers will bring Christophe back to life.”

I bow. “I am sorry for what happened to your son.”

Lonato does not immediately throw any javelins, which I take as a good sign.

“Lord Lonato, please listen to my professor,” Ashe says, dropping to his knees. “I  _ know _ you. You are a kind, good man, who took me and my siblings in when we had nowhere else to go. You take care of your people. Why must you hurt them by throwing them into this pointless battle?”

I can’t say that Lonato’s right to be angry with the church, Rhea would find out and then punish me for insubordination or whatever. I bite my lip and watch if Ashe’s pleas have any effect on him. 

Lonato stares at Ashe, time stretching like molasses. No one moves. I can’t even hear any fighting going on in the background. 

He slowly, so slowly, lowers his weapon.

“We have no intention of killing you here,” I say, finally finding the words. “We want to come to a peaceful agreement. For Ashe’s sake, and for his siblings, and for the civilians in your territory.”

Lonato squints at me. “What’s your name?”

“Byleth, sir.”

“The Ashen Demon. I’ve heard of you. You’re smaller than the stories make you sound. Well, Byleth, you’re talking a lot about peace and kindness here,” Lonato scoffs, “but... it’s not enough to dissuade me from my plans.”

“It’s a good thing I’m here, then,” Catherine says from behind me. I startle. How did I miss her approaching?

Catherine draws Thunderbrand. “The Professor may have no intention of killing you personally, but you will be executed for your insurrection against the Church.”

“Catherine! No!” I hiss at her. “I was trying to get them all to go away!”

“And let him live? He’ll just make more trouble for us in the future,” Catherine whispers. “Trust me, I’ve done this more times than you have, kid.” She pushes past me and raises her weapon.

I grab her elbow, feeling extremely childish and immature as I exclaim “But I just  _ said! _ ”

Catherine looks at me as though I am mud on her pointy-toed boots instead of a professor at the monastery and I continue. “If there’s more trouble in the future, we can deal with it then, but right now, the right thing to do would be to  _ not kill people! _ For Ashe! And his siblings! We don’t need to orphan the kids  _ again, _ come on!”

I gesture aggressively towards Ashe, who seems torn between arguing that he’s not a kid who needs my protection and agreeing with me. He opens his mouth and then closes it again, looking conflicted. 

Lonato meanwhile has raised his weapon again and is now aiming it at Catherine. 

“I knew this would happen, I knew it, I knew it,” I mutter. God, this is such a mess.

_ Sothis, if I go back in time, can I like, shove Catherine back or something?  _

“You can tell Raphael or someone to keep her from approaching you as you negotiate.” 

Sothis turns back time. We run through the scene again, and this time I keep checking back to make sure Catherine is not following up. It feels like I’m rehearsing for a play or something. Sothis reminds me of what I said the last go-around, feeding the exact lines into my head like a prompter, and everyone reacts the exact same way. I wonder if the butterfly effect is real here, and if I could disrupt the whole flow of the universe by stepping on the wrong patch of grass. Too late to worry about that now, I suppose.

Lonato says it’s not enough to dissuade him from his plans, but without Catherine to interrupt, he just calls for his troops and announces that they’re all leaving.

“What?” Ashe and Claude and I all say at once. 

Lonato gives the three of us a long look, peering down from his tall horse. The horse steps closer to us as he says, voice low and dangerous. “My goals have not changed, but for now... I will let you live.”

“Before you go, Lord Lonato, I have a question,” Claude says, speaking for the first time since this all started. He walks right up to Lonato’s horse, forcing the man to bend over to look Claude in the eye. “Why would you send Ashe to the monastery, if you feel this so strongly?” That is a good point, since the whole thing with Christophe went down years before Ashe enrolled.

“He wanted to be a knight.” Lonato shrugs, glancing at Ashe. “Garreg Mach is still the best place to train for that purpose. He would get a good education.”

“A good education you chose to disrupt for your selfish desires,” Claude says.

Ashe looks down at the ground, hands clenched in fists. “Thank you,” he says, quietly. I’m not sure who that’s directed to.

“Men! Gather the wounded soldiers and retreat to Castle Gaspard,” Lonato orders. They disappear into the forest.

The rest of the Golden Deer and the knights catch up with us then. “Professor, did that actually work?” Lysithea demands. “You just talked to the man and he left?”

“I guess!”

Catherine is furious. Her relic reacts to her anger, undulating like some kind of tentacle in her hand. “You should never have let him go, especially if he still plans to harm the Archbishop.”

“Speaking of which,” Claude says, and holds up a wrinkled envelope. “Lonato dropped this. Might be interesting.” He starts to hand it to me but Catherine plucks it out of Claude’s hands.

“Lady Rhea needs to see this first.” Catherine turns around and starts heading out of the clearing. She won’t even look at me. “Not much left for us to do here, so let’s get going.”

I realize something really inconvenient: I’ve only been here for like two months and already shattered my relationship with the Church of Seiros. Even if I’m not fired or executed after this mission there’s no way Rhea or Seteth are going to tell me anything I should know. Ever again.

...fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha yeah  
> this chapter was p heavily influenced by godspeed by quags1re, if you haven't read it and enjoy time-travel fix-its I recommend it


	19. Chapter 19

The journey back to the monastery is... odd. Some people are relieved we managed to solve everything without bloodshed. The Knights seem confused and resentful, glaring at me. Claude plants himself between me and Catherine like it’s his job to keep the peace between us. 

I keep my head down.

Ashe catches up with me. “Professor! I just wanted to say thank you. For everything.”

“Just doin’ my job,” I tell him, still thinking about how Rhea’s going to react to all this.

“No,” Ashe shakes his head. “You went above and beyond what a professor is expected to do for their students, and that... that means a lot. That’s why... I would like to join your class!”

“Oh!” I flash him a smile. “Well, we’d love to have you. Right, Claude?”

Claude smiles too, more warmly than I can manage under the circumstances. “Absolutely. Welcome to Golden Deer, Ashe.”

The students cheer, some clapping him on the back, and Ashe blushes. “I’ll give it my all!”

When we get back I follow Catherine straight to Rhea’s audience chamber for debriefing. Rhea bows her head, smiling serenely as we walk in, when she catches the expression on Catherine’s face. “What happened?”

“Your precious professor—” Catherine rolls her eyes in my direction, rude — “spared Lonato his life, and allowed him and his army to retreat.”

“Lady Rhea.” I drop to one knee. “You granted me permission to lead this mission the way I wanted to. My goal was to obtain peace, and we accomplished that.”

“Sure,” says Catherine, rolling her eyes again. “The suddenly soft-hearted Ashen Demon didn’t have to kill anyone, and in exchange, we get his.” She hands the letter to Rhea. I stand up and try not to make it too obvious that I haven’t had a chance to read it yet.

I remember what it said from the game, it was like a plot to assassinate her or something, right?

Rhea reads the letter silently, brow furrowing. Seteth peers over her shoulder. “The plan seems unrealistic at best...” Seteth says. “But a threat is a threat. We must maintain constant vigilance. To that end, I would like for all of the Officer’s Academy to help with security on the day of the ritual, including you and your students.”

So I haven’t completely disqualified myself from my position here yet.

Rhea smiles at me, and there is nothing gentle about it. “While your kindness is admirable, Professor, I do hope your reckless actions won’t exacerbate this situation.”

I feel a stab of guilt and bow my head. “I won’t let you down,” I tell her. Her smile warms a bit.

I leave the debriefing with the beginnings of a headache and the faint hope that the dining hall is still serving dinner. Unfortunately, Claude seems to have been waiting right outside the door, and heard everything.

“How are you holding up, Teach?” he asks, falling into step beside me as we head to the dining hall.

“Thanks for waiting for me,” I say brightly instead of answering, and Claude rolls his eyes at me. “Our mission for next moon is to patrol and guard the monastery in support of the knights, who are busy trying to stop an assassination plot. I think the other two houses are also on security duty just to make extra sure nothing happens.”

“Always good to be prepared,” Claude agrees. “Here's the thing. I don't think the bad guys are really trying to assassinate the archbishop.”

“It’s a distraction.”

“Precisely. That "secret note" with the assassination plot on it... There's just no way that was real. People just don’t carry secret notes around, or conveniently drop them when they’re allowed to go free. They wanted us to find it.” Claude’s eyes are shining in that particularly annoying way that means he’s in the process of unraveling some big mystery no one asked him to unravel. “Which means the assassination thing is a cover-up for something else.”

“You’re probably right, but could this wait until after we eat? Maybe we should discuss with the rest of the class, see if they know anything?” I don’t want to leave them all out of the loop here.

“Maybe. You know, Teach, you’re very good at talking to people and finding out things they wouldn’t normally tell people. Think you could ask around the monastery and see what our bad guys could be after this time?”

We reach the dining hall. I push past him to get in line for pickled rabbit skewers. “Food first, plotting later.”

Edelgard and Dimitri are already sitting at our usual table, and they jump up when they see me. “Professor!” Edelgard blurts out. “Is it true you went behind the archbishop’s back to let Lord Lonato go free?” Her voice carries across the dining hall, and people turn to look at me. I look longingly at the line for the rabbit skewers, and then back to Edelgard, standing in the middle of the hall with her arms crossed like she’s an angry mom demanding where her offspring had been all night. I guess dinner can wait a few more minutes.

“I did no such thing,” I say, shaking my head. “The archbishop gave me free reign over the direction of the mission, and she was fully informed of my intentions to end the mission as peacefully as possible.”

“Catherine was not happy about that,” Claude puts in. “But enough about us, how were your missions today, your Highnesses?”

“Fine,” Dimitri says. “Professor, you have to tell us all about it!”

“I have to eat food! To live!”

“Give us five minutes and we’ll be back,” Claude promises. We get our food while Edelgard and Dimitri sit back down reluctantly. I think they were almost done eating when we showed up.

“It’s highly unusual for a mercenary with your reputation to choose to abstain from violence,” Dimitri muses.

“There was violence,” I protest. “Just not lethal violence. And yes, we let Lord Lonato go. I decided that it would be better for Ashe and his siblings, not to mention the inhabitants of Lonato’s territory, to let him live, so long as the rebellion ceased.”

“While I can understand Lonato’s beliefs,” Edelgard says, “I wouldn’t have hesitated to eliminate those who would intrude on our own goals. Dying for the greater good is not a death in vain.”

“I feel like, on the whole, we should probably shoot for less dying if we can avoid it,” I say.

“Highly unusual for a mercenary,” Dimitri repeats.

Claude reenacts the whole mission, using the wooden skewers from his dinner as stand-ins for the dramatis personae (me, Claude, Ashe, Lonato, Catherine, etc) and doing funny voices for everyone involved except himself. 

Claude would be a good children’s librarian, I find myself thinking out of nowhere.

The Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth is at the end of the month, and before we get to that, there’s Caspar and Flayn and Claude’s birthdays to worry about, and classes to plan lessons for, and... I’m deep in thought when I bump into someone’s shoulder.

“Sorry about that,” I mumble. 

I look up and am face to face with Jeritza.

I knew I was forgetting something!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very short chapter but on the bright side it's a) sooner than usual and b) ends on a fun note   
> tfw I forgot jeritza existed until like 3 chapters ago and have been trying to figure out a good way to reintroduce him ever since


	20. Chapter 20

Jeritza is annoyingly tall and vaguely pointy-looking up close, and he peers down me like a scientist observing a microscope slide. I can’t believe I forgot about him! What is wrong with me.

“Do you need something?” he asks, because I’ve been frozen in place for a good thirty seconds now and it passed “weird” a while ago. 

“Ah! Uh... I was wondering if you would like to join me for a cup of tea sometime. It just occurred to me that we’re both professors, but we never seem to cross paths... I’ll bring sweets!” Jeritza liked sweets, I remembered that much!

Jeritza’s already narrow eyes narrow further. “... Time and place,” he says, to my surprise. I half-expected him to challenge me to a duel first.

“How about tomorrow afternoon, after classes end for the day?” I try to smile in a friendly manner, but I don’t know how effective that is on Jeritza. Is Jeritza even into women? Probably not.

“Fine by me.” He sounds entirely disinterested. 

“See you then!” I practically sprint back to my room and slam the door behind me.

“Sothis!”

“What did I miss?” Sothis yawns, hovering upside-down over my bed. She’s silent as she reviews my memories of what had transpired while she was napping. “Hm. I am not convinced teatime with the Death Knight is going to be of much use to you. He doesn’t seem to be particularly talkative at the best of times.”

“I have to do  _ something. _ I remember he shows up at the mission this month, so if I could prevent that or come up with a strategy to deal with it now, we’ll be in a better position later, right?”

“So spar with him. Find out how he fights to defeat him in battle.”

“But I don’t  _ want _ to battle him!” I whine. I fill the kettle with water and put it on the fire. “And anyway, in the game you weren’t supposed to battle him the first time he shows up, just avoid fighting him so your own units don’t get killed.”

“Suit yourself,” Sothis says. “But if he stabs you during teatime, I won’t turn back time for you.”

I stick my tongue out at her.

Jeritza does not stab me during teatime, which is very nice of him. 

I watch him add teaspoon after teaspoon of sugar to his cup, until the sugar bowl is almost empty. My teeth hurt just from watching this process. I look around the garden to see which of my students have decided to keep an eye on this teatime. Claude, Hilda, and, surprisingly, Linhardt are all sharing a chocolate cake at a table behind Jeritza. Claude waves at me. On the other side of the garden I see Mercedes and Annette sipping tea and eating cookies seemingly without a care in the world. I guess Mercedes wanted to keep an eye on her brother.

I nibble on a lemon cookie. “So... you’re the swordfighting instructor here, right? I teach swordfighting classes too, so I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around much.”

Jeritza leaves his spoon standing upright in his teacup and takes a big bite of the cake I’d grabbed from the kitchens.“I teach the Knights of Seiros, mostly, as well as the battalions stationed here. I do not deal with the Officer’s Academy if I can help it.” 

“Why not?”

Jeritza slams his hand down on the table with unnecessary force, making everything jump. “It would cause unnecessary complications.”

“What kind of complications?”

“Complicated ones.” He glares at me. I look away hurriedly.

Mysterious. Is it the Flame Emperor - Death Knight thing? Avoiding suspicion by avoiding Edelgard? Or is he avoiding Mercedes because interpersonal relationships are difficult? From what I can remember, Edelgard got Jeritza a post at the Officer’s Academy to keep an eye on him, or something. So she could use the Death Knight as her weapon.

“... What do you like to do for fun?” I end up asking instead of anything that could be useful.

“Not this,” he mutters.

A spark of irritation flares in me. “You can leave if you want, you know, no one’s holding you captive here.” That Phineas and Ferb scene where Perry the Platypus was trapped by societal convention flashes through my head, but it’s not like Jeritza doesn’t already have a reputation for being rude and unsociable.

He glances in the direction of where Mercedes is sitting and says, through gritted teeth, “It would be impolite to just leave.”

I reach out to pat him on the shoulder, but stop myself just in time to avoid losing a hand. Goddess. Jeritza reminds me of so many undersocialized teenage nerd boys I’ve encountered in my life. I used to be good at getting people like this to warm up to me, but all of my tried-and-tested strategies seem to be falling flat here. 

I put my teacup down with a sigh. “Why did you even agree to have tea with me in the first place?”

“... I was curious,” he admits, like he’s confessing to some deep secret. “The... Lady Edelgard thinks highly of you, and your reputation as a mercenary precedes you.”

“I didn’t know you were close with Edelgard,” I lie. 

He frowns. “Lady Edelgard’s uncle recommended me for my post. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Well, thank you for telling me anyway.”

“Hmph.”

Interacting with Jeritza is an experience I cannot recommend to anyone, except maybe Felix because they could at least talk about swords. I drink my tea and try to think of how I could possibly continue this conversation. “Do you like cats?”

Something flashes in his eyes. “I do, actually.” 

“Really?” I’m pleasantly surprised. “Do you have a favorite cat here at the monastery?”

“I like all cats equally. To choose one to favor would be unfair to the rest.”

“I see! I like them all too. The gray shorthair by the docks dropped an arcane crystal the other day. I gave her some fish as a thank you.”

We manage to talk about cats and fishing and food until the teapot was empty. I don’t feel like I’ve learned anything new about Jeritza or his Death Knight ways, but I do feel like we’ve established a bit of a rapport here. Perhaps he has slightly less contempt for my entire being now.

“Thank you,” he says, and departs.

I gather the empty plates and cups on a tray and wander over to Claude, Hilda and Linhardt’s table, thinking I could take their dishes to the kitchen too. I see Claude slam a notebook shut as I approach. 

That’s not suspicious at all. “What’re you all up to?”

“Just having some tea and reviewing some Albinean words from last week,” Claude says smoothly. Too smoothly. I’m surprised I can tell now. 

“Anything I can help with?”

Linhardt lifts his head up from the table and says “ _ Всё в порядке, Профессор, не беспокойтесь. _ ” 

I blink at him in shock. His accent’s atrocious, but it’s clear enough I can actually understand what he said. “ _ Молодец,  _ Linhardt.” I turn to Claude and Hilda. “Linhardt’s my new favorite.”

“Can I skip class next week then?” Linhardt asks immediately. Hilda nods.

“You are no longer my favorite,” I deadpan. “And no, you are not allowed to skip class. No one’s allowed to skip class, unless there’s an emergency. I put a lot of work into making my classes fun and interesting, you could at least appreciate it!”

“I  _ always _ appreciate your classes, Teach,” Claude says. I roll my eyes. He ignores this. “But how was teatime with Jeritza?” 

“Well.” I channel Byleth’s inner impassiveness and say, as neutrally as I can manage, “it was fine.”

Caspar’s birthday is the day immediately after my tea party with Jeritza, the first day of the Blue Sea Moon, and I don’t know what kind of tea he prefers.

I’ve barely spoken to Caspar outside of the Authority and Swords classes I teach sometimes, and I feel a little guilty about that. I liked him a lot in the game! He’s a fun little dude. But I just don’t really gravitate towards that kind of personality type. 

But also I can’t remember ever doing a teatime with him and now I’m digging through my piles of teabags (found in the pantry and picked up off the ground and out of flowerpots around the monastery) looking for something that might appeal to a guy like Caspar. Ginger? That kind of fits his vibe... But maybe he has a hidden sweet tooth...

“If you don’t give him the ginger tea, you’ll just have it lying around forever,” Sothis points out, hovering imperiously over my bed. “You don’t drink it and you know for a fact most of your students prefer sweet tea, so might as well try the ginger on Caspar.”

“Fine, then!!”

Caspar does like the ginger tea, and appreciates my little watercolor drawing too. We talk about swordfighting and training the whole time, and it feels very relaxing to be interacting with someone who is exactly all he appears to be. 

“Hey, Professor?” Caspar pushes a piece of cake back and forth with his spoon, seeming uncharacteristically apprehensive.

“What’s up?”

Caspar looks me in the eyes, staring intently. “How did you get Linhardt to transfer to your class?”

I wince. “It’s kind of a long story... I offered to teach him something special, if he joined.”

Caspar nods. “Sounds like Linhardt. Always learning stuff.” He frowns. “We’ve been best friends since we were kids, did you know that?”

“So I heard.” 

“He says you make him want to try.” Caspar narrows his eyes, and I get the sense that it is vey unusual and very serious for Linhardt to say something like that. “He told me he actually comes to your classes sometimes! And I just don’t really get it.”

He thinks for a moment. “Ashe has a lot of good things to say about you, too.”

“Aw! I’m glad.” I grin, genuinely delighted my favorite student approves of me.

“So like,” Caspar begins. “Wanna add me to your class?”

“Yes, of course,” I say automatically, because I still want to recruit as many students as I can in this route. But also, I wasn’t anticipating that Caspar would want to join my class without me really trying to recruit him. I guess the power of friendship is greater than I could have ever imagined. Then again, how many times have I signed up for stuff just because my friends were doing it already? “You won’t regret it.”

“All right! Thanks, Professor. We’re gonna run this place!”

He holds his hand out for a fistbump. I am mildly surprised fistbumps are a thing here, but roll with it. “Happy birthday, Caspar.”

“It sure is.” Caspar nods as though confirming something. “But it would be a lot better with some exercise! Come on, let’s go train!”

I suppress a sigh, and, because it is the kid’s birthday, let him lead me to the training hall.

I spend the rest of the week tracking down Information for Claude, as per the quest from the game. Unfortunately, instead of talking to anyone who had a glowy effect over their dot on the minimap in the corner and collecting scraps of paper about the investigation, I have to talk to everybody, with my own words, and write down whatever they say myself. I feel like I’m the student again taking notes during a lecture given by a dozen random residents of Garreg Mach. 

“Something the church values above all else... And on the day of the rite, it'll be open to the public, making it easier than ever to get inside. That's gotta be it, right?”

“The mausoleum, then?”

“Bullseye. We don't know the enemy's intentions, not yet. But our best bet is that their target will be the Holy Mausoleum.”

“Have you ever been in there?”

Claude shakes his head. “It’s only open during the Rite of Rebirth.”

“Maybe they’re planning to do something with Seiros’s body...”

“Maybe,” Claude agrees. “We have some time to research, at any rate. Thanks for the help, Teach.”

“Of course!”

The month proceeds, same as always. Claude and Linhardt had been spending a lot of time in the library together ever since Claude realized that Linhardt’s love of reading and researching could be harnessed for his own goals, but I didn’t pry too much into what exactly they were studying. They deserve some privacy, I thought, and went about my business without peeking at their book collections.

And then one day, after class lets out and everyone else leaves the room, Linhardt slams the classroom door shut in front of my face. 

Claude grabs my arm, polite but insistent. “Hey Teach,” Claude says. “We have to talk to you about something.”

The blackboard has two sides, and can be flipped so that the notes from one class period are preserved while the other side is written on. I don’t usually bother doing that, preferring to wipe the chalk off at the end of the day every class period. But Claude flips the board over now, and on the other side of the board is a list.

_ REASONS WHY BYLETH EISNER IS NOT WHO SHE SEEMS _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Linhardt just said “everything’s fine professor don’t worry” lol


	21. Chapter 21

I stare at the board incredulously, and then at Claude and Linhardt, who are standing on either side of the board in a way that gives me the impression they’d fucking rehearsed this.

My heart should be hammering in my chest, but it can’t. Byleth’s body doesn’t have a normal heartbeat. 

I wonder if I could unintentionally activate a Divine Pulse...

“I control the Pulse, not you,” Sothis scoffs in my head. “And I really want to see this play out before we think about turning back time and trying again. You have to admire the effort these two went to.”

I stand there, frozen.

“Have a seat, Teach.” Claude magnanimously gestures at the desk in the center of the front row.

I sit obligingly. “What is this?”

“A presentation,” Linhardt says, sounding distinctly amused. “Do pay attention, Professor, we worked hard on it.”

He picks up the ruler I use as a pointer during class and taps the first point on the list: “ _ DRAMATIC PERSONALITY CHANGE, AS NOTED BY PEOPLE WHO KNEW BYLETH BEFORE THE MONASTERY _ ”

“Point number one,” Claude says. “Jeralt, Alois, and your battalion members all attest to the fact that as a young child and adolescent, Byleth Eisner was a taciturn individual, stoic and inexpressive, who preferred fishing, hunting and swordfighting to interacting with others.”

“However,” Linhardt cuts in, and holy shit they clearly rehearsed this, “the Byleth here at this monastery is outgoing, talkative, and prefers teatime to sparring with someone to get to know them better.”

“One could attribute this personality shift to the benefits of a new, stable environment, and being surrounded by peers who are closer in age and status to Byleth than the mercenaries,” Claude continues. “Indeed, everyone we interviewed agreed with this explanation for the change.”

He takes the ruler from Linhardt and smacks the board with it. “ _ However.  _ A different personality is but one piece of the puzzle that is the true identity of our dear Teach.”

Point two:  _ ALBINEAN???  _ Subpoint:  _ CONFLICTING BACKSTORY _ .

“Isn’t that too many question marks?” I try to joke. 

Claude smiles at me, but there’s nothing friendly about it. “As you like to say, I have a lot of questions, Teach.”

“So, Albinean,” Linhardt picks up. How many times did they practice, I wonder, their transitions are very smooth. “You speak an obscure foreign language with the fluency of a native speaker. Yet, when asked about Albinea, Jeralt explained that you’d only spent a few weeks in the region before moving on to Sreng when you were about five or six years old.”

“Maybe I’m just gifted at languages?” I try. 

Linhardt gives me an unimpressed stare. “Then why haven’t you picked up Duscurian from Dedue, or Brigidese from Petra? Your Albinean might be excellent, but you have not demonstrated a proficiency at languages in general.”

“ _ La plume de ma tante est sur la bureau de mon oncle? _ ” I blurt out one of the only sentences in French I remember from middle and high school. The pen of my aunt is on the bureau of my uncle, or something. I did not ace that AP exam.

Claude snorts. “If that was supposed to be Morphian, your accent’s atrocious, Teach. The point is, you’re clearly bilingual in Albinean and Fodlanish, but no one else from your company comes even close to speaking Albinean on your level. Which leaves us with the question: if Byleth Eisner did learn Albinean to fluency, when and where could she do so?”

I keep my face blank and just watch the two of them, waiting to see where they’ll go next.

Claude whacks the third point on his list. “ _ STRANGE FODLANISH _ .” 

I wince. I have no arguments against that one. Claude smirks and flips open his notebook, the one I saw him writing in the other day. “Not only do you speak a foreign language, you speak our native language very unusually. Here is a list of terms I’ve heard you use that other people at this monastery do not, besides swearing, which you also do more often than is usual: literally as an intensifier, ‘f’, ‘rip’, ‘okay’, ‘hang out’, ‘like’ as a filler word....”

He keeps going for a crushingly long amount of time, while all I can think is, _ I fucked up SO hard. _ I was way, way too careless with my speech and what I thought I could get away with muttering under my breath. Then again, people who have to deal with shady types like Hubert on a regular basis are probably used to decoding muttering. Still though! 

Claude stops. “Do you have anything to say for yourself on this point?”

“No,” I mumble. I can’t come up with a good justification for how I talk. Nothing to explain it away. 

Claude seems disappointed, almost, that I’m not fighting them on this. 

Linhardt takes the ruler from him and smacks the board again. “ _ ART _ .”

“Professor Byleth shows a noticeable artistic inclination that does not line up with what people knew of her interests before she came to Garreg Mach. Not only that, but after consulting with Ignatz (who is far more knowledgeable about art than either of us are), we have been informed that Professor Byleth’s draftsmanship does not reflect the teachings or aesthetic preferences of any region of Fodlan, and instead seem to be inspired by utterly unknown sources.”

I stifle a laugh. My art style is too fucking anime for the video game universe, is it. Or maybe too cartoony. At any rate it’s definitely stylized in the wrong direction. Oh, if my art friends could see me now.

“This is no laughing matter,” Claude scolds me, reclaiming the ruler from Linhardt. 

I nod, reassuming Byleth’s neutral expression. “Right, sorry, keep going.”

“The last major point we want to address is this,” Claude slides the edge of the ruler along the board as if to underline the final complaint, written in all-capital letters with orange chalk. “ _ DOES NOT BEHAVE LIKE A MERCENARY. _ ”

“Teach,” Claude says with a sigh. “You came to this monastery as a respected mercenary, known as the Ashen Demon for your skill and ruthlessness. And yet, in all of the battles we have faced together, you’ve demonstrated a notable distaste for killing people. While such compassion is commendable, it is entirely at odds with your established identity.”

“So what we have here,” Linhardt summarizes, “is a person, who looks like Byleth Eisner but almost certainly is not, and yet does not appear to be harboring any ill intentions towards us or the Church.”

“The Church part is debatable,” Claude points out. “Remember how she reacted to the rebellion.”

“Hey!” I interrupt, and stand up. Unfortunately Byleth’s full height is still shorter than both Claude and Linhardt, but it’s better than sitting down. I cross my arms and try to make myself look as tall as I can. 

“If you hadn’t come to this conclusion, would you trust me? Just based on what you’ve seen me say and do, not based on how it lines up with my past. Would you trust me?”

Claude looks away. “It’s a bit late to pretend now, Teach. How can we trust someone who’s clearly hiding something huge?”

“Whatever you may think about my identity, you can’t deny that I prioritize the safety and well-being of my students over everything else.” I lean forward. “Have I or have I not consistently made decisions to promote unity across different houses and social classes?”

Claude and Linhardt stare back at me, unmoved. I keep going. “Have I or have I not changed the whole structure of the last mission to protect Ashe and his family’s well being, checking in on him regularly and making him feel so appreciated he joined our class?”

I start checking things off on my fingers. “I organized an art club to help some of our shyer students be more social. I eat meals with the leaders of the other two houses to promote camaraderie and cooperation. I go out of my way to celebrate everyone’s birthdays. I care about people and want to help them. I am not playing a long game of sabotage— which reminds me, you two might want to look into Tomas the librarian a bit more after this. Even if I’m not the Ashen Demon, I am still a person who cares for everyone here.”

“So,” I repeat. “Do you trust me? Do you trust that I truly want the best for you all?”

Sothis materializes behind Claude and nods at me, fists clenched, ready to activate the Pulse if necessary.

They exchange a look, and then stare at me for what feels like an eternity. 

“Will you explain whatever’s going on, then?” Linhardt asks. “Are you Byleth, are you someone impersonating her, are you possessed by a ghost, what  _ happened? _ ” He sounds legitimately frustrated in a way I’ve never heard him sound before. 

“Well...”

_ Sothis. Should I tell them everything? _

Sothis shrugs. I’ll take that as a yes. To be honest, strategizing with an amnesiac Goddess working from the exact same knowledge bank as me was not as helpful as I’d hoped it would be, and I’m the kind of person who likes having multiple sources of advice rather than relying on one single person. I want more people in my corner. And... I really do hate lying and keeping secrets from people I trust.

“So,” I begin. “I’m not Byleth, but I _ am _ in Byleth’s body...”

We end up staying in the classroom talking almost until dinnertime. I try to stick to the important points, but I do end up drawing a map of the world as I remember it and pointing out where I used to live and the city in Russia I was born in.

“That’s why I talk to cats in what you know as Albinean, and why I know Albinean at all,” I explain. “And my art style makes sense too, I was an artist, in this other world, and the way I draw and paint reflects the popular styles of that place and time.”

“Well! That is... a lot to take in,” Claude says, “but it does clear up a lot of our questions, I suppose. I’m still confused as to why you’re here, though.”

“Well, in my world, there’s this...” Oh jeez. Can I do this without having to explain the concept of video games? I feel like finding out you’re a fictional character might be a traumatic experience. “I just know things. ” I blurt out instead. “I know about... several potential futures of this world. I know Tomas is actually this evil guy named Solon in disguise, I know Edelgard’s planning something I don’t think I should tell you about yet, I know Dimitri and Edelgard are stepsiblings by marriage and I can’t tell you how I know all of this stuff because I don’t know how to explain it but it’s all true and if you can believe me, we can work together to stop the really bad stuff from happening and make a better future for everyone.”

“What’s Edelgard planning?” Claude demands at the same time as Linhardt asks, “Is Tomas like you?”

“No, Solon is from this world. He’s part of this group known as Those Who Slither in the Dark, it’s a long story...” I look out the window at the setting sun, golden light filtering into the dark classroom. “Can we get dinner first?”

Linhardt and Claude both sigh impatiently. It’s not my fault Byleth’s body needs a lot of food! Also Sothis would never let me skip a meal.

“Will you be eating with the house leaders as usual, Professor?” Linhardt inquires.

“I guess,” I mumble. “You can’t tell anyone else about what you’ve learned, by the way.”

“Obviously,” Linhardt and Claude say in identically exasperated tones.

“Who do you take us for?” Claude adds. “We know how to keep secrets.”

“Just wanted to make sure.” I huff. “Anyway, let’s go.”

“We will continue this discussion after dinner,” Claude says, so firmly and authoritatively I could almost see him as the ruler of Fodlan in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just looked at my statistics for the first time in months and wow there sure are more people subscribed to this thing than to any creative work I've ever posted on the internet before. okay!  
> this chapter happened relatively fast bc I had most of it already written in my head (trust me when I say I've been planning this twist for a while now, not since the very beginning but still) but uh next one will probably take. longer. I hope you enjoy


	22. Chapter 22

Claude’s behaving completely normally as we sit down in the dining hall with Dimitri and Edelgard, but I, as it has been repeatedly established, am an awful liar. 

I pick at my Daphnel Stew and, since I’d gotten to talk about my actual past for the first time in so long, find myself thinking about my grandma’s  _ zharkoe _ , with brisket and potatoes and plums. Daphnel Stew tastes like the inside of a chicken pot pie, but blander. Not even in the same universe as my grandma’s stew. Literally. Ha.

“Professor? Are you feeling alright?” Edelgard inquires. 

“Just a little tired. Didn’t get enough sleep last night,” I cover. 

“You seemed perfectly fine at lunch.”

“Afternoon classes really took it out of me, I guess...” How I managed to last this long without getting discovered is a mystery for the ages. 

I’m so terrible at this, I realize suddenly. I’ve been here for months and what have I accomplished? Spared the life of a guy who plans to kill the archbishop and was nice to some kids, I guess.

“Stop putting yourself down!” Sothis scolds me in my head. “You’re doing your best!”

_ I don’t _ feel  _ like I’m doing my best! _

The conversation turns to the Rite of Rebirth.

“You don’t really believe the assassination plot is legitimate, do you, Professor?” Edelgard asks.

I look at Claude. “We think it’s a distraction for something else,” Claude says.

“That’s what we thought as well.” Edelgard looks at Dimitri like she wants to poke him or something, but Propriety and Boundaries prevent her from even considering such a thing.

Dimitri sighs. “All this talk of assassination plots... It brings back dark memories I prefer to keep buried. I doubt there is any correlation, and yet... Ah, it is nothing.”

“... Are  _ you _ feeling alright, Dimitri?” I ask.

He waves me off. “Do not worry about me, Professor. Back to the topic at hand. We’ve all been ordered to patrol the monastery on the Rite of Rebirth, so why not work together?” Dimitri repeats.

“How do you propose we do that?” Edelgard raises a skeptical eyebrow. “I assume the Archbishop or the head of the Knights will decide our patrol routes for us. Even if we are sure where the attack will be, we won’t be able to all gather in one spot to ambush them.”

“Not to mention that while we all know Teach here is first in line to promote inter-house unity, you two will probably need to get your professors’ approval,” Claude interrupts, a trace of smugness in his voice. I shrink a little in my seat. 

“Manuela has a fairly... hands-off style of teaching,” Edelgard says. “I’m sure she won’t be a problem.”

I suppress a shudder. It feels a bit like the mask that is Edelgard slipped to reveal the Flame Emperor within.

“Professor Hannemann is interested in doing another combined class exercise sometime,” Dimitri shares. “I believe he would approve of coordinating our patrols.”

I wonder if after you’ve been teaching for a while you learn to be more detached from your students. But they’re all so close in age to me, it feels almost like I’m the senior leading a school club full of underclassmen instead of a professor teaching them.

Claude kicks me under the table. I snap back to focus. “What? Uh, sure, yeah, working together, sounds great.”

“Professor, are you sure you’re not coming down with something?” Dimitri asks.

“I don’t get sick,” I reply automatically. The vessel of the Goddess is not susceptible to mere diseases. “But I am a bit tired today. I think I’ll go to my room and get some rest.” 

I stand. Claude grabs the edge of my cloak. “Didn’t we have a meeting planned for after dinner, Teach?”

I glare at him. “Before class tomorrow, if you can wake Linhardt up that early. I need a break.”

“Linhardt?” Edelgard murmurs. Dimitri blinks in confusion. I feel a pang of guilt at leaving them both in the dark.

But I can’t tell them I know stuff about the future when it leads to one of them becoming an authoritarian dictator and the other losing an eye and his sanity.

And I need to figure out how much I should tell Claude and Linhardt. If anything. Maybe I should just make shit up.

“Tomorrow,” I tell Claude, tugging the fabric out of his hands. “I’ll see everyone then.”

I flop down on my bed and call up Sothis, who materializes on my desk obligingly. “So what are you going to tell them?”

“I don’t know! That’s why I’m asking you!”

“I do not know either! I haven’t experienced any of these futures you saw in your little video game, so all I have to go on is what you remember.”

“This  _ suuuuuuuucks _ ,” I whine pathetically from the bed. 

Sothis sticks her tongue out at me. “This is all your fault anyway! If you had been more careful with how you talked and presented yourself, no one would have caught on and you wouldn’t have had to tell anyone anything!”

“I know!” I pull the pillow over my head and muffle a scream of frustration into it.

“Can you Divine Pulse me back to before Claude and Linhardt locked me in?”

“Wouldn’t help, they would simply make you stay for their presentation tomorrow. You saw the blackboard, it was prepared far in advance. And my Divine Pulse can’t go back more than 24 hours.”

“This  _ sucks, _ ” I reiterate. 

Well. I can’t lie around feeling sorry for myself forever. I pick up my journal and start brainstorming, muttering to myself (and to Sothis) as I go.

“I don’t want either of them to start treating Edelgard or Dimitri differently because of their future knowledge, and I want to get to know Jeritza and the Death Knight a bit more before deciding how to handle him... I think we should start with the Tomas-is-Solon thing and then go from there. Do you know of any techniques that could force him to reveal his true identity?”

“I don’t have much more magical power than a figment of your imagination right now,” Sothis sighs. “Besides the Pulse, which draws on Byleth’s energy more than my own. If you killed Solon, I believe he would revert to his true form in death.”

“Hm. Murder. Interesting.” Byleth Eisner might be a hardened mercenary, but I still feel bad about squishing ants. Chidi Anagonye from the Good Place appears in my head, frowning anxiously in disapproval. (Metaphorically. It’s still just me and Sothis sharing this space.) “Any other options?”

“You could make one of the boys kill him for you if you’re so squeamish about getting your hands dirty.”

“That’s worse. You do get how that’s worse, right?” Sothis blinks at me, the reference flying over her head. God, I miss watching TV. 

What  _ would _ Chidi do? Get a stomachache and lie catatonic while Eleanor comes up with something that actually works, probably. But now I have to be the Eleanor.

.... Eleanor would probably just kill Solon.

“Maybe I should just kill Solon,” I say out loud. 

“Exactly what I was saying,” Sothis responds. “You can run it by your students if you’re so concerned, but you keep forgetting this is a very different world from the one you left. Assassinations and fights to the death are just a fact of life here. Strategizing to avoid killing your opponents the way you do when there’s a mission is bizarre, and one of the things that tipped them off that you were not who you claimed to be.”

“So in conclusion, we should totally just stab Caesar.” I sigh.

“Who’s Caesar?”

“Never mind.”

I lie there feeling sorry for myself for a while, before finally deciding to make myself some mint tea and maybe read one of Sylvain’s recommended books. I’ve just poured myself a cup when someone knocks on my door.

I peer through the crack in a very Bernadetta-esque move. It’s Edelgard, to my surprise. I crane my neck and see Hubert lurking inconspicuously behind a pillar, watching over her from afar.

“Is something wrong?” I ask, because I can’t imagine any other reason Edelgard would show up to my room after dark on a weeknight. She’s not even in my house. I step out of the room so it wouldn’t seem like I was hiding from her.

“I just wanted to check on you, Professor,” she says, twirling the ends of her hair. “You seemed... strange at dinner. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Uh.” That’s super weird, but okay! “Thank you for the concern,” I say awkwardly. “But I’m fine, really... do you want some tea? It’s mint.”

“No, thank you,” Edelgard says primly. She fiddles some more. “If you don’t mind me asking... what did Claude want to talk to you about? After dinner.”

I look up at the sky and sigh so loudly Edelgard takes a step back. 

“You don’t have to—”

“I’m sorry,” I interrupt. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you. I shouldn’t really be telling anyone, but the situation has gotten out of my control. It’s... there’s a lot going on,” I finish lamely. Ugh. Maybe I really am tired if I’m babbling like this.

Edelgard blinks at me, big round eyes full of apparently innocent concern. “I hope someday, Professor, we can speak freely with each other. About all of our secrets.” She looks away, and I wonder which secrets she’s thinking about.

“I hope so too. Good night, now.” 

“Good night, Professor.” She leaves. I shut the door.

“That was sweet,” Sothis comments. “Edelgard seems to pay quite a lot of attention to you, not-Byleth.”

“You don’t think  _ she’s _ going to figure out my fake identity shit, too?!”

Sothis sighs dramatically, which I don’t think is very fair of her, and I finish my now-lukewarm tea and start getting ready for bed.

When I walk into the classroom the next morning to set up, I find Linhardt sleeping under the desks. “Did you... were you there all night?”

He yawns and pulls himself up to a sitting position. “No. I came in after breakfast and decided to take a bit of a nap while I waited for you, Professor Not-Byleth.”

In my head, Sothis cackles. I can’t believe her nickname for my consciousness caught on even without her influence. I wince, but decide to let it slide.

Linhardt unfolds a sheet of paper that turns out to be four times the standard size, which is unsettling. “I have prepared some questions.”

I rub my eyes with one hand. “Let’s wait for Claude before you start interrogating me again, okay?”

Claude walks in shortly after. “Hope I’m not too late to the party, Teach, Linhardt.”

“Just in time. Linhardt was about to ask me ‘some questions.’” I make airquotes with my hands, but they both look confused. “Linhardt was about to ask me too many questions,” I amend.

“It’s a perfectly reasonable amount given the circumstances,” he responds. “Number one: how do you know things about the future of Fodlan if you are from an entirely different world?”

“That’ll take too long to explain.”

“I think you need to explain it at least a little before we can believe you,” Claude points out. “You’ve provided enough evidence of being from another world, but how do we know you’re not just making things up about ours?”

“I read it in a book?” I try. I don’t think I’m capable of explaining video games to people who have never seen a computer before. How did that Tumblr post about explaining Fortnite to a Roman gladiator go? Not well, definitely. 

“It was a fictional book about the land of Fodlan in which everyone was a character. The book starts with Byleth joining the academy and training students for a year, and then Byleth falls asleep for five years and wakes up to a very different world.” The more I speak, the more believable it sounds to me. “There were four books about the four paths Byleth could take, one in which Byleth led the Golden Deer, one in which she led the Blue Lions, and two in which she led the Black Eagles.”

“Why two for the Black Eagles?” Claude interrupts.

I hesitate. “... If everything works out the way I’m hoping it will, you won’t have to find out.”

“Why can’t you just tell us now?” Linhardt says. Linhardt von Hevring seems to consider withholding knowledge from him specifically a crime, which is a funny trait to see from the outside but an extremely irritating trait to experience firsthand. 

I pick up the cleaning rag and start wiping down the blackboard. “Because you don’t need to know yet! We need to get rid of Solon first,” I say, before Linhardt can start. “Tomas is dead, Solon is impersonating him to carry out a long con that should kick into effect in a few more moons. If we can remove him somehow soon, it’ll save a lot of lives.”

“...And how do you propose we do that, Professor?” Linhardt asks pointedly. 

“I stab him in the dead of night?” 

They both look at me with such deeply skeptical expressions I’m almost offended.

“No offense, Teach,” Claude says, “but since we have established that you are not the hardened mercenary you pass yourself off as, I have some doubts about your ability to carry out such a task.”

“Then  _ you _ do it,” I snap reflexively. “Wait, no, I didn’t mean that, sorry.”

I hang the rag on the corner of the board and take a steadying breath. “I mean. I’m here for a reason, right? It’s my responsibility to give this world a happier future than the ones I saw, so I have to do the difficult jobs that will make it happen.” I look Claude in the eye. “I’ll do it.”

Claude and Linhardt exchange a look. “If you intend to assassinate an employee of the monastery, you’ll need a more specific plan than just ‘stab him in the dead of night,” Claude finally says.

"So you're on board?" I ask.

"I guess I am," Claude sighs. "Even though I'm still having trouble wrapping my head around all this stuff you've told us. When it all comes down to it, you're still Teach, aren't you?"

I grin, relief spreading throughout my borrowed body. "I'm really, really glad you feel that way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bluh sorry this chapter was just Not happening for me idk what I'm doing anymore  
> major real life changes are happening w/me soon but I expect I'll still be updating this for at least a little longer we'll see  
> I am not feeling great atm! so the next update may happen a bit later than usual. thank u for understanding


	23. Chapter 23

We’re in the middle of working out a slightly more thorough plan when Lysithea comes in, ready to start class. She takes in the scene: me, sitting on top of a desk in the front row, Claude and Linhardt scribbling on the blackboard and talking over each other as they get more excited about the idea we’d come up with. 

“Professor! And... Claude and Linhardt? What’s going on? What are you all doing?”

I flip the board over before she can see what’s on it and start scribbling the daily agenda on the opposite side, hissing at the boys to take their seats and act normal. “Uh, they just had some—” 

“We were just getting some extra-special tutoring,” Claude interrupts, smirking. “Sorry, no children allowed.” He tries to lean against the blackboard, but it tilts back, and he wobbles.

Lysithea pulls her pen-cleaning cloth out of her bag and winds it up into a ball, an expression of fury on her face. I take a step back. Claude ducks right when the ball starts flying, and it nails Linhardt in the side of his face instead. 

“Ow,” Linhardt says, deadpan. The balled-up cloth lands on the floor, leaving a drop of ink on his cheek.

“And you didn’t even do anything this time,” Claude tsks. “I think Lysithea should apologize.”

“Lysithea, you can’t throw things at people in class,” I say. “No matter how much they deserve it.” A lesson I also had to internalize when I was around her age.

“Class hasn’t started yet!” Lysithea protests.

Leonie and Lorenz come in then and ask what the fuss is about this time, and then the topic of conversation shifts to the Rite of Rebirth again, and it’s only after I start the day’s lecture that I realize they’d managed to distract Lysithea from asking more questions. Sneaky bastards.

“Hey, Professor, I know there's talk of an assassination attempt, but do you really think they'll do it on the day of the Rite of Rebirth?” Sylvain asks when we break for lunch. “I feel like security would be looser some other time. Is there some reason why it has to happen on that day?”

“The Holy Mausoleum will be open to the public on that day, making it easier to get inside. We believe they’re using the assasination attempt as a distraction for whatever they’re really planning,” I tell him. 

“So you think someone’s trying to rob the Church?” Sylvain muses. “That’s an interesting possibility. I just don’t know if there’s anything in that old tomb worth stealing.”

“I guess we’ll find out,” I say, trying to keep my tone light. Sylvain asks a lot of questions, which seems at odds with the playboy persona he wants to cultivate. Meanwhile, Lysithea asks a lot less questions than I’d expect from someone so interested in the pursuit of knowledge. I’d have to keep an eye on them both, anyway, in case they’re next in line to solve The Mystery of Professor Byleth.

Flayn’s birthday arrives on Saint Cethleann’s feast day, and I don’t know if I should do something for it or not. She’s not my student in any capacity, and I haven’t had a lot of interactions with her besides smiling and nodding when I pass her in the halls. She seems sweet enough, but I don’t know if it’d be weird to invite her to tea on her birthday. After some waffling, I ask her anyway, and she accepts the invitation.

“I am honored that you invited me,” Flayn says, sitting down. She picks up her cup of Crescent Moon Tea. “And you knew about my favorite tea! I am moved!”

“It is a favorite of mine as well,” I say. “Happy birthday, Flayn.”

Flayn beams. “Thank you, Professor. I enjoy this opportunity to chat with you without my brother’s interference.” She slants a look at the tables behind her, where Seteth sits, reading a book with a cup of coffee. “Even though he insisted on observing anyway...”

“Brothers are like that, from what I’m given to understand.” Okay, none of my friends’ older brothers are like that, but I feel like Flayn would like it if I said something like that. She smiles at me again, so it must have worked.

“So...” What do I talk about with Flayn. “How do you like... living at the monastery?”

"I enjoy it very much!” She stirs some sugar into her tea. “Lively places are my favorite. I like the monastery because there are always so many people bustling about."

“I like lively places too.” I’ve always loved exploring new and different cities, or walking around in the town center back home. Seeing lots of different people and wondering what their stories might be. I miss that, a bit. “Did you grow up in a city?”

"I was born in Enbarr, though I have lived in remote lands far away, at times…" Flayn looks off into the distance. I wonder what she’s remembering.

“I’ve traveled a lot as well,” I contribute. “It’s hard for anywhere to feel like home, after a certain point.”

Flayn blinks up at me with her huge, unnaturally seafoam green eyes, and nods slowly. I hope she can’t read my mind.

We chat about traveling and cats for a while, and it is a nice distraction from the stresses of plotting possible murders. Eventually, the teapot is emptied, and Flayn gathers up her full skirt and stands. “Thank you for the tea party. The tea was very delicious. Please take care, Professor.”

“You too, Flayn. Happy birthday.” She grins and skips off, pointedly turning away from Seteth to walk down a different path to the greenhouse instead.

I don’t particularly want to confront Seteth now. He’s probably still suspicious of me after the last mission. I look around and notice Claude and Linhardt writing in a notebook behind me. Hopefully they’re figuring out what to do about Solon.

I grab the plate of leftover cookies (although it is more crumbs than yums now) and pull up a chair to their table. “How’s it going, kids?”

“We’re not kids,” the two of them say in identically offended tones. 

I stare at them, unimpressed.

Claude breaks first, clearing his throat and shuffling a few loose pages in his hands. “We have a few possibilities for... the plan.”

“Including several non-lethal versions,” Linhardt pipes up.

“That’s reassuring.” I don’t want to kill anyone, no matter how justifiable. Byleth may have been built for murdering, but as long as I’m piloting this mech I would prefer not to go down that route.

Sothis in my head sighs impatiently and says, “It’ll be a lot faster if you just stab the guy and get it over with!”

Linhardt is tapping his pen against his chin and staring off into the distance. “If everyone’s going to be distracted by the Rite of Rebirth anyway, what if we confront him then? Let the Blue Lions and Black Eagles deal with the threat at the tomb while we go after Tomas.”

I instinctively balk at the thought of just Not Playing Through a Mission, but he has a point. The other houses are full of independent, fully rational beings, and their house leaders like and trust me enough to follow my suggestions a lot of the time. Except, wait, wasn’t this the chapter I got the Sword of the Creator? Edelgard has the Crest of Flames, so even though she’s not a sword wielder she could do a lot of damage with that if she got her hands on it...

“I’m not so sure I can trust them completely,” I mumble. I’m not a control freak generally, but I feel like it’s kind of justified in this case.

“You could tell the Church what you know,” Linhardt says, now reading off his notebook list. 

“But we don’t have any clear proof, and everyone’s focused on the Rite of Rebirth thing now anyway,” I point out. “Not to mention I’m not exactly on any of the Church people’s good sides right now. Except I guess Flayn and Alois, which doesn’t count for much.”

Wouldn’t it be hilarious if Rhea accused me of trying to distract people from the possible assassination attempt, which is already a distraction from an attempt to rob the Holy Mausoleum? 

“So that’s a ‘no’ on telling the Church,” Claude draws a line through the item on his list. “You could tell our  _ class _ and see what happens from there,” Claude suggests. “Or Jeralt. Not everything, just mention that you’re suspicious Tomas isn’t who he says he is and let the Bladebreaker handle it for you.”

“Ah, uh...” Vivid flashbacks of that one cutscene of Jeralt jumping in front of Monica’s knife to protect Byleth jump through my head. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea. Telling Jeralt. I guess we could... bring it up in class...”

I freeze suddenly, because thinking about telling my other students gives me an idea. An idea that doesn’t require murdering. “Linhardt, you’re a mage and a nerd. Do you know if there’s any spell that could force Solon to reveal his true identity?”

“I could find out,” Linhardt says. He flips his notebook to a fresh page and scribbles something in it. “Give me a few more days.”

“Don’t worry if you can’t find anything.” I pat him on the shoulder. “How did you two make that list of Reasons Why I’m A Fraud for me, again?”

“We talked to people who knew you before the monastery and observed your actions,” Claude says slowly. “Are you suggesting...”

I nod, smile spreading across my face. “Let’s go to the library.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter's short and later than usual, I was... very stuck. idk when the next update's gonna be either on account of experiencing a lot of changes in my routine irl so need to figure out a new routine for writing stuff. thank u for ur patience and support!


	24. Chapter 24

I delegate the stalking of Solon to Claude and Linhardt on the grounds that they hang out over there all the time anyway, and they already did this once with me. In the meantime, Caspar lets me know that tournaments are a thing now! I send Hilda in for the Axe tournament, and Lysithea for the black magic tournament the following weekend. They both win easily, although Hilda complains about her free day being interrupted. Lysithea, surprisingly, seems pretty into it, although Marianne had to heal her twice. 

Most of the class actually comes to watch, even though I’m sure most of them had other plans for their free day. Raphael yells out advice that may or may not be actually useful and Annette practically turns into a cheerleader, getting everyone milling around the arena chanting Hilda’s name when it’s her turn. I’ve finally rid myself of the habit of searching for a smartphone in my pockets, but I wish I had a camera to commemorate this moment.

“You’re doing great,” I tell Lysithea when she hits a Church mage with her Miasma twice in quick succession. It is so, so satisfying to watch this under-5-foot gremlin knock over full-size adults with bursts of dark energy. My favorite part of the game.

Lysithea beams, then squashes it into a more smug smirk. “I know, but thank you.” 

Hilda yells“GO LYSITHEA, GO!” and elbows Marianne, who startles like a baby deer and waves a fist in vague encouragement. Lysithea blushes at the attention, and then proceeds to demolish the last two rounds.

She gives me the prize gold to store. It is a satisfyingly hefty amount to shove in my magic pockets. “You are my favorite Reason student, you know that?”

“Then why do I always see you talking to Linhardt outside of class?” Lysithea blurts out, and then claps a hand over her mouth like she hadn’t meant for that to come out.

Sothis in my head cackles. “Your students are so cute, not-Byleth!” I nod, and then roll my eyes to reassure Lysithea that Linhardt is not number one in my heart.

“He’s working out a theory about something, that’s all. You know what Linhardt is like, once he gets an idea he won’t give up until he’s proven right.”

Lysithea scowls. I wonder what support level she and Linhardt have gotten to, if any. Has he bugged her about her Crests yet? I don’t know how to ask, since I don’t think I’m supposed to know either. “He’s so annoying,” she finally says. 

I nod sympathetically. Interacting with Lysithea sends me straight back to high school in a way none of the other teenagers do, because so much about her reminds me of my high school self. I was just as defensive and insecure and nerdy, except instead of doing magic I took classes above my grade level and refused to accept anyone’s help no matter how much I needed it. “You and Linhardt have a lot in common.”

“Exactly!” She stomps off. I wonder if they’ll ever end up getting along.

Linhardt himself reemerges after dinnertime with a pile of notes on Solon’s behavior. Claude talked to the monastery staff who had known Tomas before he was replaced, and Linhardt did not find a spell for revealing a true identity, but did find out from the dining hall staff that Tomas has not been seen eating or drinking in years.

“So poisoning is right out,” Claude says, sounding far too disappointed by this prospect. I glare at him.

I come to the library by myself the next day, after class but before dinner. Just to see for myself.

I’d been to the library before, of course, but Tomas the librarian never left much of an impact when I wasn’t focused on him. He wasn’t always in there, and when he was in the library he was often just kind of... standing in a corner, seemingly lost in his own little world. I rarely saw him reading. The library has a surprisingly modern, familiar book check-out system with the little cards tucked into the inside front covers, but it’s pretty much self-service after your first time in the library. 

The first time I met Tomas the Librarian, he greeted me, showed me how to take a book out of the library if I ever wanted to do so, and then vanished into the shadows to do whatever. Evil, probably. 

This time, I walk in and head straight to a back corner, and pretend to take a book off a shelf while observing Tomas out of the corner of my eye. I feel like I’m in a spy movie, which is fun.

Tomas nods slightly at me as I enter, and then goes back to standing. His eyes are closed. If I didn’t know better, I would assume he’s doing that old-person sleep-standing-up thing I’ve seen my grandfather do before. Does evil sleep? Is he just very committed to his role?

I can’t just talk to him, that would be obviously suspicious. While Linhardt is known for being weird and curious and asking lots of questions about whatever he happens to be interested in that week, and Claude is known for playing five-dimensional chess against unknown opponents at all times, Professor Byleth is friendly and helpful, but not nosy. Usually I don’t have to be, because I read all the lore on the wiki and know everyone’s backstories that way.

I stand there pretending to read about the history of the Adrestian Empire for about ten minutes, then start actually reading because Tomas still hasn’t moved at all and I have a book in my hands and no patience. Then I give up the whole thing and head to the dining hall.

I run into Claude immediately outside the library, where he is leaning nonchalantly against the wall in a way that gives me the impression he’d been waiting for me to leave the library for a while. 

“Hey, Teach,” he says. “I was wondering where you were.”

I nod at him, and he walks with me towards the dining hall. “Did you find out anything interesting?” I ask.

Claude makes an “eh” noise. “Not as much as when we were researching you.”

“To be fair, Solon had a lot more preparation time for his plot than I did!” Which makes me think of something. “If you don’t believe me about all this, I completely understand It seems less and less plausible to me too.”

Claude shakes his head, and puts a hand on my shoulder like I’m Ignatz and he’s giving me an archery pep talk. “You’re still Teach, which means I trust you. So does everyone else in the Golden Deer.”

His grip tightens, fingernails digging into my cloak, almost hard enough to hurt. “However, if you betray that trust, well. You can probably guess where I’m going with this.”

I wrench my shoulder out of Claude’s hand and take a few steps forward so he has to run to catch up to me. “What  _ is _ it with the students here and delivering veiled threats to me like Amazon packages?”

“I’m sure I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.” Claude blinks innocently. “What’s an Amazon package?”

“Not important. Hey, do you think Linhardt’s made any progress with finding an identity-revealing spell?”

“You’d have to ask him yourself, Teach. If you can find him, that is, I haven’t seen him at all in a few days.”

“I did notice him skipping class,” I admit. It’s annoying, especially because Garreg Mach Officer’s Academy technically doesn’t have enforceable attendance policies? Which is insane. But apparently students can skip class every day and still graduate if they pass their certification exams. Good for them, I guess! Bad for me. “I hope that means he’s dedicated to figuring this out and not... distracted by something else shiny.”

“I hope so as well.” 

Linhardt reemerges from whatever dark hole he’s been hiding in on Friday. Sitting in his usual seat at the back of the room, sleeping like he’d been there all week. He raises his head when I enter the classroom that morning, nods once, and then goes back to sleep.

I shake him awake. “Hello? Where have you been? Did you find anything out about identity magic?”

“Yup.” Linhardt yawns. “I found a spell that will force the target to reveal their true form. Unfortunately, I don’t have the power to cast it successfully right now.”

My heart sinks. “So what do you suggest we do instead?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” 

I stare blankly.

Linhardt blinks and then slowly spells out, like he’s talking to a child, “We have Lysithea cast it. She has more raw power than any other mage at the monastery, because of her two Crests.”

So he does know about that, then. “How much should we tell Lysithea about what’s going on?”

“Up to you. I’m going back to sleep, I stayed up for two days straight calculating this.” He pushes a piece of paper out from under his wide sleeves and buries his head in his arms again.

“How early do I have to wake up in the mornings to beat you to the classroom, Teach? Should I start skipping breakfast?” Claude complains, strolling in a solid half hour before class is due to start. 

“Absolutely not. Breakfast is important,” I retort. “And I’m supposed to be here early! I’m the teacher!”

I fill him in on what Linhardt told me. Claude listens with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Not sure how much I like adding another person to our grand conspiracy here,” he says, frowning. “We don’t have to tell her everything right away, but she might start asking questions, and if it gets to that point by Horsebow Moon the whole monastery will know our beloved Teach is a dimension-traveling bodysnatcher.”

I wince at his phrasing. “Hopefully it won’t come to that. I trust Lysithea’s ability to keep secrets.”

“She’s impulsive and short-tempered,” Claude points out. “She could blurt something out in the heat of the moment.”

“She could, but she won’t. Probably.”

“We need her help,” Linhardt mumbles. “So... yeah.”

Claude sighs irritably. “Well, if there’s no other options... I’ve known Lysithea longer than either of you, and I think I can get her to cast the spell without giving away too much. After class.”

More students come in then, cutting off any further discussion on the subject.

After class, Claude comes up to Lysithea’s desk and says, “Hey, you’re pretty good at magic, right?”

The rest of the students have filtered out. Linhardt is still napping in his corner, and I start wiping down the blackboard in silence, hoping Lysithea doesn’t notice that either of us are still there. 

Lysithea puffs up like an offended cat. “I’m _ great  _ at magic, actually! Didn’t you see me in the tournament last free day? No one else here could even come close to me!”

“Right, right.” Claude puts one hand down on Lysithea’s desk. “Well, I have this spell, and I asked Linhardt if he could cast it and he said no, you’re the only person powerful enough to pull it off.”

“Linhardt said that?” Lysithea narrows her eyes in suspicion. 

Claude nods and slides the paper Linhardt gave me across the desk.

Lysithea picks the sheet up and examines it from all sides, like she’s expecting a trap. “A spell to reveal someone’s true form... Why do you want to cast this? And on who?” 

“Don’t laugh... It’s Tomas, the librarian.”

Lysithea’s eyebrows go up. “Why would you think he’s an imposter?!”

“It’s a long story, but I need you to trust me on this.” Claude leans towards Lysithea and looks her dead in the eye. “Do you trust me?”

So much of this whole business comes down to trust, I think then.

Lysithea rolls her eyes, unimpressed. “Fine, I’ll do it. But you _ will  _ explain what this is all about after I do it!”

“I like this girl,” Sothis decides to inform me then. “She has a strong spirit.”

I bite back a laugh and go back to pretending to clean the blackboard. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's lysithea appreciation hours I guess  
> don't expect the next chapter to come this fast bc it most likely will not I have homework now and deadlines and stuff


	25. Chapter 25

The day finally arrives. Claude calls Rhea and Seteth into the reception hall after dinner. Linhardt gets Solon from the library. Lysithea rallies most of the people left in the dining hall, telling everyone something big is about to happen. I go find Jeralt and Alois by the fishing pond.

“Can you come with me?” I make Byleth’s eyes as wide and innocent as I can.

“Sure. What’s up, kiddo?”

I don’t respond, because that seems how Byleth would react, and just lead them to the reception hall. 

Edelgard and Dimitri are already there with their houses, having caught wind of the commotion from Lysithea. “Professor? What’s going on?”

“You’ll see in a minute.” The students move aside to let me through to the front of the crowd where the Golden Deer kids are all clustered together. Jeralt and Alois stay back, letting the shorter kids and monastery staff see what’s going on better.

We have Tomas-also-known-as-Solon in the middle of the long, high-ceilinged reception hall, Rhea, Flayn and Seteth looking confused and belligerent, and Claude von Reigan walking around the circle of onlookers to make more space for Lysithea to cast her spell. Tomas is being held fast by Raphael and Caspar. We didn’t plan for them to be involved, but they saw Linhardt leading Solon into the reception hall and volunteered their services, which was really helpful.

Claude sounds like a circus ringmaster as he declares, “Welcome, residents of Garreg Mach, to a once-in-a-lifetime demonstration of magical skill, and the discovery of our dear Librarian’s true identity!”

Linhardt sighs deeply, unwilling to perform in front of a crowd, but obliges Claude by walking into the center of the circle with him. “Tomas worked in the Garreg Mach library for approximately 40 years of loyal service and retired to the lands of Ordelia with dignity several years ago. And yet, last year, Tomas returned from retirement to resume his employment. Why?”

“Monastery employees who knew Tomas before he retired confirmed that his personality has changed drastically, from chatty and jovial to taciturn and antisocial,” Claude cuts in.

“And what about it? Maybe retirement changed Tomas,” Seteth says.

Claude smiles at him. “Maybe. Or maybe, as we will shortly demonstrate, this isn’t Tomas at all.”

Solon pales. Raphael and Caspar, standing on either side of him, each take a step back as Lysithea gets ready to cast. The crowd murmurs amongst themselves, and Lysithea pulls her sleeves back, closing her eyes and concentrating.

The spell hits Solon with a burst of lavender light, bright and hot and unreal, and the hissing sound of water against a hot surface. The magic radiates out from the point of contact and leaves everyone in the front rows like they’d been standing in the sun for a bit too long. For me, it feels like the UV lamps manicurists use to set gel nail polish. I’ve never been this close to the blast zone of one of Lysithea’s attacks before, and it’s a lot stronger than I’d expected. Linhardt’s eyes are closed. Is he taking a nap right now?

The light fades, and where Tomas the Librarian stood only moments before is a strange, monstrous figure I immediately recognize as Solon from the game. The captive audience gasps. Lysithea takes a few steps back, joining her classmates. Solon whirls around, snarling with anger. He raises his arm, but Marianne, quietly standing just behind Hilda with the rest of the Golden Deer, reacts faster than I’d ever seen her move before, casting Silence and leaving Solon incapacitated long enough for Claude to finish talking.

“What Lysithea just cast was a spell to reveal the true identity of the target. As you can see, this individual was not Tomas the Librarian, but someone very different.” Claude spins around on his right foot and stops in front of Rhea. He bows. “Archbishop, do you have any ideas as to the identity of this individual?”

Rhea steps forward, her eyes blazing with cold fury. “This...  _ individual, _ as you put it, Mister Von Riegan, is an affront unto the Goddess, and will not be tolerated here.”

She glances at Seteth for a fraction of a second. Something passes between them, and before anyone else can move, they do... something, it happens too fast for me to make out exactly what. 

There’s another bright flash, this time accompanied by a deafening silence. Like when the movie soundtrack cuts out and everything is moving in slow-motion, except in real life. I’ve gotten used to not hearing a heartbeat, but I can’t hear Byleth’s breath either. The flash is so bright I shut my eyes reflexively, and it burns my eyelids. Someone squeezes my arm.

The light fades. I open my eyes.

Solon is collapsed in a heap on the ground, smoke coming off his corpse.

Huh! Okay then! I did not expect this to be resolved so quickly or so easily. 

“That’s my daughter,” Sothis whispers with pride.

I look around and everyone else looks completely shocked. I don’t think Rhea usually demonstrates her power so overtly. But it’s also unusual that she didn’t formally execute Solon, just got rid of him immediately.

Rhea waves a hand and some guards whisk the body away to dispose of it goddess knows where. As I watch them leave, I think I see a flash of lavender hair behind a pillar, which reminds me I still have to “discover” the Abyss. But hey, Solon’s gone, he can’t hurt anyone else anymore. And now Rhea and Seteth know Those Who Slither in the Dark are making moves, and can act against them... but they probably won’t bring me into their confidence more than absolutely necessary.

I don’t know how this is all going to shake out, but I feel a weight has fallen off my shoulders now that at least one of the future threats has been dealt with. 

“Who was that, Archbishop?” Linhardt asks, in a deliberately innocent voice. “Why did you have to kill him so quickly?”

Rhea glares at Linhardt, but the kid is completely unfazed. “Some things students are not meant to know.” She turns to the crowd and, in a louder voice, declares, “There will be no further discussion of this incident.”

I have to bite back a laugh at this because Rhea clearly does not know Linhardt at all if she thought saying that would keep Linhardt from researching everything about this situation. Unless she’s trying out reverse psychology? But she doesn’t seem like the type...

Linhardt nods, expressionless, and walks over to join the Golden Deer and me. The rest of the crowd starts to break up, sensing the show is over. Jeralt lingers, however.

“Did you know this was going to happen?” he asks, no accusation in his voice.

I shrug. “Not exactly,” I say truthfully. 

“You could’ve talked to me first,” Jeralt says. “I have more experience in dealing with the Church than any of you young people. Maybe we could have figured this out without...” he jerks his head to where Solon’s remains were lying just a minute earlier.

I nod. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” I try to smile at him, but I don’t think either of us are convinced.

Jeralt claps me on the shoulder and departs.

My kids surround Claude and Linhardt and Lysithea and demand to know what the fuck just happened. 

“How did you figure everything out? How did you know the imposter was dangerous? Why doesn’t Lady Rhea want to talk about anything?”

“Claude told me to cast the spell,” says Lysithea. “He wouldn’t tell me anything else.”

Everyone looks at Claude, who smiles and says, “Teach tipped me off. Linhardt helped research the spell Lysithea used, but Teach was the one who gave us the idea.”

Everyone looks at me.

I shrug.

“Professor this isn’t  _ fair, _ ” Annette complains. “You can’t just tell some of your students things, you have to tell  _ all _ of us! We’re a class! A team!”

“She’s right, professor,” Leonie says. “We could have all helped out.”

“Some of us,” Hilda corrects her. “But they’re right, no one likes being left out of the loop!”

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, bowing my head. No one seems appeased by this.

Sylvain doesn’t say anything, but I see him looking from me to Claude like he’s figuring something out. I kind of do want Sylvain in on the situation, he asks a lot of good questions. It’s a shame he tries to pretend he’s a useless playboy.

I just kind of stand there, frozen. It occurs to me that half of my students are taller than me, unlike when I was teaching middle schoolers. I obviously can’t tell anyone I’m not really Byleth, especially not here, in the reception hall of the monastery where anyone could be hiding behind a pillar or tapestry and listening in. 

“We need to refocus on this month’s mission,” I manage to say after a moment. “We can worry about the fake Tomas later. I have a feeling this situation won’t come up again for a while...”

Or did it? It’s been so long since I’ve played the game, I’m starting to forget the details. I’ve already been in this world for four whole months... It feels like longer. 

I realize abruptly that I am very tired. “I’m going back to my room,” I announce. “It’s been a long day.”

“We’ll come with you,” Ignatz volunteers for everyone.

We end up walking to the dorms as a big group, oddly subdued and quiet. I get the sense everyone is thinking of questions they want to ask me. I need to think about how I want to answer them.

Fuck, maybe it  _ is _ time to activate the Abyss DLC. That could help explain some of my insider knowledge.

I stop short in front of my door, and turn to face my whole class. “I am sorry for keeping so many of you in the dark about this plan. Next time, we will all work together.” If there is a next time, and if I don’t just give up and do everything myself like I’m back in school doing a group project with strangers.

I move to close the door, but Claude stops me. “Wait, before you go, I just wanted to double-check. On the Rite of Rebirth, we’re staking out the Holy Mausoleum, right?”

I nod. 

“Great. Just making sure. Have a good night, Teach.”

“Good night, everyone.”

I start getting ready for bed and then, as I’m about to put out the candles, Sothis reminds me that Claude’s birthday is in two more days. 

I stop, hand frozen over the wick. “Fuck!”

The watercolor sketchcard I was doing for Claude is still nowhere near finished, since I can’t work on it during Art Club meetings if he’s present and recent events have taken up a lot of my free time. I guess I have to work on it now, even though the candlelight is not nearly bright enough to give me an accurate color reading. I draw fast, though, so I decide to just put the base tones down now and finish the card in the morning light. 

The watercolors I bought in the market are on my table, along with the short-handled brushes and cold-press paper. I’m not ready to experiment with actual sheets of gold leaf, but I did trade a ridiculous amount of actual gold for a tiny little bottle of gold paint, and I use it to outline the details of Claude’s Golden Deer House Leader attire. I don’t want it to seem like I’m favoring him by adding special details to his birthday gift, but, well, he is the leader of the house I’m in charge of, so it’s really more fair this way, isn’t it?

“If it makes you feel any better, I am certain all your students already know who your favorites are,” Sothis informs me. “You are far less reserved with your emotions than the real Byleth was.”

“Fair enough,” I admit.

I finish the sketchcard with time to spare, but it proves surprisingly difficult to find a good time to invite Claude to tea on the actual day. Everyone in the Golden Deer has something to give Claude for his birthday of course, but also Bernadetta and Dedue give Claude little things they’d worked on during art club (Bernadetta shoving it in his hands and running away before he could even say thank you), the library assistants give him some book he’d been looking for for a while, and at lunchtime Edelgard and Dimitri each pass him wrapped packages that I have to assume they’d prepared far in advance for political reasons. It seems like every time I see him he’s busy with someone else. 

Popular guy!

I give Claude the sketchcard before he leaves the classroom at the end of the day. “Happy birthday, Von Riegan.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you usually do this over tea, Teach?”

“You seem busy.”

“I always have time for you.” He winks. I grimace exaggeratedly, or as exaggeratedly as Byleth’s face allows.

“But if you actually do have time for tea right now, I can go get the stuff from the kitchens.” 

Claude makes a show of looking around the empty classroom. “Looks like we do have time right now, Teach! Let’s go.”

When we get to my usual table in the gardens, we find that all of the round tables are already shoved together and covered in all manners of cakes, cookies, and other sweets. I recognize Lorenz’s second-nicest porcelain tea set in the middle, and a dozen cups from three of his other sets scattered around. Lorenz himself is pouring something from his teapot into cups around the table for all of the Golden Deer, and Edelgard, and Dimitri, and Mercedes and Felix and Ingrid and Dorothea and Petra and even Ferdinand are all sitting around the tables and chatting amongst themselves. The only student I don’t notice is Hubert, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t lurking in the shadows somewhere.

Annette sees us approach first, and nearly drops the tray of slightly burnt cookies she’s carrying to the table. “Oh, good, you’re here! Happy birthday, Claude!”

Claude blinks. “Aw, jeez. Thanks, everyone, but you really didn’t have to go this far...”

“Nonsense!” Hilda interrupts. “It’s your birthday! We have to celebrate properly!”

“You’re making me blush.” He waves her off, then takes a seat at the head of the.... Table assortment. Round tables were not meant to be pushed together like this. The gaps between them are covered up with metal trays piled high with candy.

I put my meager tray of tea and sweets down on the edge of a table. “Happy birthday,” I say again.

Dorothea leads everyone in a slightly disjointed chorus of Happy Birthday. Claude insists I sit next to him, and after some heated whispering, Edelgard sits down on my other side, Dimitri next to her. 

It’s a fun party. Everyone’s in a good mood, no one’s arguing over petty bullshit like I know they could be, the desserts Mercedes and Ashe and Annette all worked together to make are delicious. They play some Fodlan party games I haven’t heard of which end up being interesting to watch. And Claude seems to be enjoying it, which is the important part. 

It’s nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not the happiest w/this one but my own actual birthday's coming up soon so I have been In A Funk haha anyway here it is


	26. Chapter 26

Two days later, it’s time for the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth.

We head towards the reception hall to meet Seteth. I’ve stocked everyone up on the best weapons they’re qualified for, vulneraries and elixirs. The Golden Deer Combined Treasury is running a bit low on funds now, but I’ll get paid next week which will make up the difference. I shouldn’t be thinking about this now, but it keeps my mind off the anxieties of the battle. I stop by the Battalion Guild in the market and make sure everyone who’s qualified to lead a battalion of their own has one assigned to them. The various mercenaries, mages and archers fill the reception hall, several paces behind my students.

“Time to see if our hunch was right,” Claude says, a note of tension underlying his casual words.

“Ugh, I hope it's not,” Hilda grumbles. “Then we wouldn't have to fight anyone.”

“It’s going to be fine regardless,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I really am. I did knock Solon out of the picture, but what kind of intel did he leak to the mole people before that?

And is the Death Knight going to be involved?

“Your confidence is reassuring, Professor,” Hilda says, but it sounds like she’s humoring me.

“All we can do now is stick to the plan,” Claude concludes.

Seteth and Flayn show up and scolds us for being too chill. Seteth says I should be leading my students down the “path of righteousness” and I successfully refrain from laughing in his face.

“Come on, Teach. I know a hidden spot where we can monitor the stairs that lead to the Holy Mausoleum. If there's anyone down there, they'll be trapped like the rats they are. We'll just have to take them down without getting bitten.”

We go to the hidden spot over the Holy Mausoleum, but by the time we get there, mages from the Western Church are already in the process of taking the tomb apart.

“We’re late to our own party,” Claude comments. “Looks like the enemy is going after the casket in the back. Maybe they're going after the saint's bones? Weird. I'd like to defeat them before they can finish the job.”

“Let’s go!” Caspar yells. 

The Holy Mausoleum is dark and moody inside, with a low ceiling that reminds me of the Paris catacombs. It has the same feeling of ancient, stale death to it as well. I see the Death Knight watching in his own gloomy little corner, shutting down some mage trying to get his attention. I guess teatime with Jeritza didn’t do anything after all.

“No one go near him,” I call out. “That guy is bad news.”

“Roger that, Teach. I’m not getting a great vibe from him anyway.”

“Look at the floor,” Lysithea points out. “I think these patterns indicate something...”

Sothis pops up in my head to remind me that one kind of tile boosts defense and the other boosts resistance, so I relay that information to the group.

“The smart move is to advance while finding the best fighting positions we can based on the enemy's weaponry,” Claude says.

I remember in the game we had to protect the casket and defeat the enemy within 25 turns, but turns don’t work like that in “real life.” Everything happens a lot faster because instead of moving each of my students one by one, they all charge off on their own immediately. Well, they don’t exactly run to all corners of the map, but they do all head towards the nearest cluster of enemies and attack them simultaneously. 

I notice Leonie and Sylvain are still fighting side by side, as I keep instructing them to do during our practice battles. If it works, it works! And everyone is still doing their best to avoid lethal damage, as I’ve been encouraging them to.

I want to get to the casket as fast as possible and trigger the Sword of the Creator event into happening, but it’s all the way at the other end of the mausoleum. The other students distract some of the enemies in my path, but two swordfighters see me move and rush to get in my way. It’s a relief when Byleth’s battle instincts take over and knock them out quickly. One of the men manages to get a few blows in, but it doesn’t feel too bad. Surely not worth using a vulnerary.

“Take the vulnerary while you have time to,” Sothis instructs me, so I duck behind a tomb and drink. It really does work quickly, leaving me refreshed and ready to get back out there.

“Sothis, can you catch me up on how everyone else is doing?”

“Everyone’s still standing,” Sothis reports. “Leonie recovered an artifact from an enemy bishop. Hilda pulled a gambit on two enemies at once. There’s a healer in each group so no one’s at risk of fainting yet. Not bad, overall.”

And then another group of enemy mages appears from behind. As it turns out, the students are less comfortable handling attacks from multiple directions. My ranged fighters try to use their speed to strike the mages first, but I see Ignatz get hit by a counterattack that looks like it hurt.

“Stand on the patterned tiles! It will help!” I yell at him. “And fucking dodge!”

“Don’t be rude, Professor,” Sylvain tries to joke, and I turn to glare at him right as he shoves his lance into the side of an enemy brawler. 

“Oof,” I mutter. “Nice one, though.”

“Thank you.”

I keep advancing.

“Professor, I don’t think I can keep going,” Marianne calls out from behind a casket. I can’t see her from my vantage point, but I recognize her voice. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help...”

“Stop apologizing!” I hear Lysithea yell at her, brisk and businesslike. Both of them have recently graduated to carrying steel swords around as backup for their magic, but from what I can hear a precisely placed gambit from the Western Church knocked Marianne for a loop. “Just come closer and let me heal you!”

“I can’t... I’m sorry...”

Lysithea screams, but thankfully it sounds more like a scream of frustration than of pain or horror. She’s probably fine. I hope.

“Marianne and Annette are both down,” Sothis reports. “Lysithea could not heal Marianne in time, and she passed out. And Caspar’s up against a mage, but his resistance to magic is low. If he doesn’t get healed soon, he’ll be out of the battle as well. Linhardt is coming to back up Caspar, but I am not sure if he is fast enough to make it.”

“Hm. Bad!” I say. “Should we use a Pulse?” I don’t really understand how we’re doing this badly. I remember this mission being less disastrous when it was on my friend’s Switch screen... And I still haven’t even gotten to the commander at the casket! Ugh!

“I think we have to,” Sothis says grimly, and I grit my teeth in anticipation of the squeezing feeling when— 

A miracle happens, one not even my inside gamer knowledge could have predicted.

“Professor! Claude! Need some help?” Dimitri shouts from the entrance to the Mausoleum, the rest of the Blue Lions behind him.

“We did talk about patrolling together, did we not?” Edelgard adds, her Black Eagles bringing up the rear. “Hubert saw your class head this way after Seteth gave you your assignment, and I thought it prudent to inform Dimitri as well.”

“You guys are the best,” I tell them genuinely, and then turn to the mages and shout, “See, you’re not the only ones who can summon reinforcements!”

Dorothea casts Physic on Caspar, while Petra and Felix both draw their swords and attack the mages from behind. Hanneman and Manuela help get Annette and Marianne out of the mausoleum and into the infirmary. Mercedes smiles the world’s most reassuring smile at me before catching up to her friends and joining the fray. A weight falls off my shoulders.

Dimitri and Edelgard both turn to me, like I’m leading their house. I feel a bit self-conscious suddenly.

“So first of all, don’t go near the Death— that guy,” I point to the Death Knight, whose identity I just remembered I’m not supposed to know. “I’m trying to get to that casket before they open it, but people keep getting in the way...”

“Then go,” Edelgard says. She holds up her axe. “We can handle things for you.”

Dimitri nods and holds up his lance as well. “We may be in different houses, but we have a common goal here and now, and we will all act in service of that goal.”

I bow deeply. “Thank you both. One last thing: we have a policy of avoiding lethal hits if we can help it.”

Dimitri and Edelgard both blink in confusion at this, but let it go anyway. I smile gratefully at them and run towards the casket. 

The... dark bishop? I think he’s a Faith magic user, anyway, the guy at The Casket, is chanting something I can’t make out, all the way up against the far wall of the mausoleum. The distance to the casket feels strange— the space seems pretty narrow, and yet it feels like it’s taken me longer than ten minutes to run over there at Byleth’s fastest speed. Magic video game bullshit, probably. At any rate, I get there eventually, and whistle for my battalion. “Hi, uh, run Onslaught on that guy, please, thanks.”

They run Onslaught on that guy. It knocks him back a bit, and keeps him disoriented long enough for me to smack him over the head with a steel sword. But the casket is already glowing mysteriously, and the lid is pushed halfway off.

“It’s no use!” The mage tells me smugly. “The seal is broken. You can't– Huh? A sword?”

The mage pulls out The Sword of the Creator. I elbow him in the stomach hard enough to make him drop it, then switch the sword I’m holding with the fancy new sword. 

This feels so fucking weird. 

The Sword of the Creator is warm and pulses faintly in my hand. My fingertips tingle. Part of me is repelled by what I know this sword to me, but part of me feels like it does fill something missing in my body. I mean, Byleth’s body. Fuck.

I swing it experimentally, and the sword  _ writhes.  _ It wraps around the enemy commander like a tentacle. Gross! I wonder if I could tell the sword to not do that next time.

There’s a crunching sound, then it pulls back towards me like a retractable dog leash.

I look back. Everyone else is watching me, which makes me feel a little self-conscious. I think the Death Knight says something, but I can’t hear him from all the way across the room. He teleports away. Damn, I wish I could do that.

I slowly walk back to where Claude is standing with Edelgard and Dimitri.

“The jerk got away,” Claude says, glaring at the spot where the Death Knight was standing. “Was that magic? We can't even chase after him. Hey, Professor. The way that sword is shining... Do you think it could be...”

“A relic?” I finish for him. “I have a feeling.” Claude raises his eyebrows at me, then nods. I think he got my meaning.

We start cleaning up and then Catherine and her knights arrive and she orders the knights round up stragglers. She doesn’t seem surprised to see us all here, but doesn’t look too happy either. Maybe I need to invite her to tea to cancel out the whole Lonato stuff. Probably not even that would be enough to make up for Disobeying Lady Rhea in Catherine’s eyes...

Our whole group files into the cathedral and watches Rhea cast her judgements upon the perpetrators. I notice Shamir, which surprises me because I hadn’t seen her around the monastery much at all before. Wasn’t Rhea supposed to introduce her to me at some point?

“Inciting a Kingdom noble to rebel. Unlawful entry,” Shamir rattles off. “The attempted assassination of the archbishop. An attack on the Holy Mausoleum. It is unnecessary to go on, followers of the Western Church.” 

“What?! We have nothing to do with the Western Church!” 

“You have already been identified,” Seteth interrupts. “Please spare us your second-rate theater.” 

Rhea sentences them all to death and it is very dramatic and excessive. Even though I’ve already seen this cutscene before, it does carry a bit more gravity when the NPCs are begging for their lives right in front of your face. 

The knights take them away, and my shoulders slump with relief.

“I suppose that’s that,” Claude says softly. “The assassination attempt, the attack on the Holy Mausoleum... Looks like it was all a plot by the Western Church. It's just too bad that that masked knight who was leading the attack got away. Vanished without a trace.” Claude gives me a significant look. “Have you seen that knight before, Professor?”

I blink innocently, which means “yes.” Claude nods.

“But why would the Western Church want to attack Lady Rhea?” Hilda asks. 

“We went over this when we were trying to plan what do with Lord Lonato, remember?” I prompt them both. They nod.

“The bishop of the Western Church probably hopes to split off completely. In which case, he'd need to weaken the Central Church's influence. Killing Rhea is certainly one way to do that. To the shock of no one, I hear the knights have been sent to subdue the leaders of the Western Church. We'll probably get a chance to assist,” Claude finishes.

Everyone starts talking at once then, wondering about the punishment the intruders are about to get, commenting on how scary Lady Rhea is, but it’s all just noise to my overwhelmed mind. After a few minutes, though, Seteth takes me into Rhea’s audience chamber.

“I cannot thank you enough for defeating those invaders in the Holy Mausoleum, and especially for protecting the Sword of the Creator.”

“Just doing my job.” I bow. 

Rhea frowns at the interruption, but continues to exposit. “That sword is one of the Heroes' Relics, and the most precious artifact in the church's possession. It is also a weapon of terrifying power. For now...I will entrust the sword to you. Please, use it wisely.”

That’s nice of her. I thought she hated me. “Thank you.”

“Lady Rhea, wait!” Seteth interrupts. “Do you truly mean to give the Sword of the Creator to this stranger?! Surely it is not the sort of thing that one hands over so readily, even to someone who has the ability to wield it! Especially to someone so keen on flaunting our rules and authority at every opportunity. If someone like Nemesis were to appear again, all of Fódlan would be consumed by war!”

I don’t ask who Nemesis is. I remember this cutscene. Seteth barrels on, unaware that I was supposed to sidetrack him with more exposition. “Lady Rhea, I beg you to reconsider. Given a little more time, we could more accurately assess this stranger's abilities.”

“No. I have faith, Seteth. Faith that our friend here will not be corrupted by wickedness.” She looks me directly in the eye, and I get the sense that she is seeing deep into my soul and finding me lacking. She doesn’t have faith in me, she has faith in her ability to threaten me to stay in line.

Rhea’s lips curve into a smile, and she says, “Since the death of Nemesis, none have been able to wield the Sword of the Creator. Now, after all those long years of being sealed away, it has returned and found a new master.”

I nod and contrive to look contemplative as I am finally allowed to leave.

Sothis in my head is probably rifling through my memories from the game. “So this sword... it is a Holy Relic, yet it is different from other Relicsl because of that hole it bears?”

“Yup. Byleth can wield it because she bears the Crest of Flames or whatever. Are any of your own memories coming back now?”

Sothis sighs. “I do despise not knowing what is going on! But no, still nothing.” She pauses. “You unlock this sword’s ultimate power by  _ fusing with me _ ??”

“Don’t worry about that yet, it’s not for a while.”

Claude steps out from a shadow. “Heya, Teach. Couldn’t help overhearing your debrief,” he says, completely unrepentant about his shameless eavesdropping. “I’ve heard of that sword before, in legends. Do you think I could use it anyway?”

“Maybe. You can borrow it if you want,” I say without thinking. His jaw drops. “But you’re not much of a sword person, are you?”

Claude smiles. “True. The Sword of the Creator... man. Things have just been getting more and more interesting around here since you’ve showed up, huh?”

I shrug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have an estimated chapter count yet, but I feel like I'm gonna wrap this up soonish. I have a few things I really want to hit in the miklan thing but after that I just. I have other things to work on and this is no longer as fun for me to work on as it used to be, so... yeah!


	27. Chapter 27

Rhea and Seteth give me the month’s mission a few days later.

“The thieves stole a Hero's Relic from House Gautier of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus–the Lance of Ruin. Their leader's name is Miklan,” Seteth tells me. “He is apparently a disowned son of House Gautier.”

“So like, Sylvain’s brother?” I ask.

“I assume so.” Seteth shrugs. 

“Has anyone told Sylvain?” Why are the kids directly involved always the last to know?

Rhea shrugs. “As he is in your house, Professor, perhaps you should be the one to do the honors.”

I suppress a sigh. “Was there anything else?”

They tell me some stuff about Relics and the Sword of the Creator and let me loose. I start walking towards the dorms, hoping to catch Sylvain before he does anything stupid in response to potentially experiencing a human emotion, but I’m intercepted by Claude in the entrance hall.

“You didn’t tell me anything about being the descendant of the King of Liberation, Teach!” He’s smiling, but there’s something else in his expression too. I think he might be genuinely hurt I didn’t tell him about the sword in advance.

“I didn’t tell you anything you didn’t need to know right away,” I reply. “And... I forgot. Sorry.”

Claude’s smile warms a bit, and he falls into step beside me as we walk through the hall. “How about now, then? It’s pretty obvious anyway. If you can wield that sword, it means you have that bloodline’s crest. Oh, but speaking of bloodlines and Crests, professor Hanneman has been looking for you.”

I sigh. “I’ll see him after I make sure Sylvain’s doing okay.”

“Dutiful as ever, I see.”

We’re interrupted by Judith the Hero of House Daphnel, who shows up to tell Claude he’s got to go back to Leicester and participate in the roundtable in his grandfather’s stead. Judith in real life is very tall and very friendly.

“So you're little Claude's teacher, are you?” she asks, smirking. “How much trouble has he been giving you?”

“All of it,” I reply automatically. Judith laughs. 

“ _ Anyway, _ if her nickname didn't give it away, you should know that Judith...er, Lady Judith is the leader of the famous House Daphnel of the Leicester Alliance. She used to be a big deal at the roundtable conferences, but it seems of late she's been reduced to a mere–”

“You had better shut that mouth before I put my boot in it, you tactless nuisance!” Judith interrupts. “Let's get going. Sorry, Professor, but I need to borrow the boy for a bit.”

“I suppose we'll have to finish our chat later. Sorry, Teach. But don't you worry. I'll be back in time for our next mission.”

“Have a safe trip!” I pat him on the shoulder once, and then head to Hanneman’s since that’s closer than the dorms. Sylvain can wait a few minutes.

I try my best to pretend to be surprised and interested in Hanneman’s exposition about the Crest of Flames. Wow, a fiery emblem, never saw that one coming.

“Thank you for the thoughtful analysis,” I say with a bow, “but I must get going.”

Hanneman blinks, caught off guard. People aren’t usually very happy about Hanneman’s probing and prodding, are they. “Why, you’re very welcome. Please stop by any time if you have more questions about your Crest or your Relic.”

“Will do!” I wave cheerfully at him and finally, finally am free to go Check In On Sylvain. This is my new quest, which I have assigned to myself. I can’t give myself renown for it, but it’s the principle of the thing, I guess.

When I reach Sylvain’s door, I can hear... noises. Noises that imply Sylvain is... busy.

Of course, the gossip-loving part of me (and Sothis, who is equally interested) has to wonder who, so after a few moments we decide to knock on the door anyway.

He actually answers, to my surprise. “Oh, hey Professor. Did you need something?” He’s thrown his blanket loosely over his shoulders like a cape.

I try to look around him to see the other person in the room, but whoever it is is hiding in the sheets. Okay then. “Maybe I should come back later,” I say.

“Nah, we were just about done here anyway,” Sylvain says dismissively.

There’s a distinctly feminine scoff from the bed. “Are you always this rude?”

I don’t recognize the voice, which is somewhat a relief. If Sylvain was treating any of my female students this badly we would have to have a very stern talk.

“Sure am,” he says cheerfully. “You can see yourself out, right?”

“Sylvain!” the random girl and I both snap simultaneously. She’s pulling a dress on over her head. Definitely not Officer’s Academy. 

He smiles and looks back at the girl. “Aw, you know I’m just teasing, right?”

She glares at him, tying her hair back up, and pushes between us to get through the door. “Don’t bother contacting me again, jerk.”

“Oh, well.” Sylvain sighs, not seeming too put out about it. “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“I was just going to tell you about this month’s mission. Or have you heard already?”

“About Miklan? Yeah.” Sylvain’s demeanor changes, all the playfulness gone. “Don't misunderstand, I always thought he was a piece of garbage, but I never thought he'd steal the Relic. I can't wait to see his face when he realizes I'm in the group that was sent to take him down.”

I nod grimly. “So you’re okay then?”

“I’m always okay,” Sylvain says. I give him my least impressed expression. Sylvain sighs. “Nothing gets past you, huh? Well then. My brother is one of the worst people I’ve ever known, but... he’s still family, I guess. It’s complicated.”

I nod sympathetically. “I can imagine.”

I reach out to pat him on the shoulder and then remember he’s still not wearing actual clothes. I pull my hand back.

“So... just to be clear, you’re not sleeping with any of the girls from the Officer’s Academy, right? No girls deserve to be treated the way you treat them, but if you hurt any of my students I’m sure you can guess what will happen.” I give him a long, hopefully intimidating look, and Sylvain’s expression wavers slightly.

“Duly noted, but you don’t have to worry on that front. You’re all so protective of each other, it’d turn into a ‘Murder on the Almyran Caravan’ situation really fast. Not to mention I have a healthy amount of fear and respect for you, Professor.” Sylvain winks. I ignore it.

“Murder on the Almyran caravan... Is that a book where one man is stabbed by twelve different people?” Does this world have an equivalent to Agatha Christie?! It’s a pretty bg deductive leap, but I really want it to be true so I blurt it out anyway. 

“You’ve read it!” Sylvain exclaims.

“I’ve heard of it.” Score! “If you have a copy I would like to borrow it. Or anything else by that author.”

“I’ll be right back,” Sylvain promises, and dives back into his room to dig through piles of books for Fantasy Agatha Christie. I am unreasonably excited for this prospect. Finally, something familiar enough that I can find it comforting. I wonder what their version of Poirot is like.

He hands me a clothbound book with a title stamped in gold leaf. Very antique-chic. “Thank you,” I say. “And if you ever want to actually talk about your feelings with words, you know where to find me.”

“Ha! Thanks, Professor. Maybe someday.” He sounds so sad when he says that, I feel compelled to give him something as a distraction.

I dig through my pockets of infinite depth and come up with a miniature board game and an owl feather, which everyone loves because owl feathers are fucking dope. “I picked this up at the market the other day. Maybe you can find someone to play it with? Claude’s away right now, but I’m sure...” The only other characters I remember preferring the board game gift were Edelgard and Hubert. Shit. “Actually, do you want this owl feather? Never mind, just. Here.” I shove the board game and the owl feather at him.

“Oh, can I really have this?” He looks so taken aback. 

God, this kid needs a real therapist. “Yes, obviously.”

“Well, thank you, Professor. Maybe my brother should do horrible things more often,” he jokes.

“Hopefully, after this mission he won’t be a problem anymore,” I say. 

Sylvain nods. “I hope so too.” He looks somber again. Disgusting.

“Well, have a good night, Sylvain.” As I turn to leave, I notice Felix, Ingrid and Dimitri coming down the hallway to Sylvain’s room, Ingrid carrying a basket of food, Felix holding a deck of cards. Behind them are what seems like the rest of the Blue Lions and at least half of the Golden Deer. And Petra and Dorothea, too! I’m surprised to see them. 

“Ashe thought it would be nice to do something to cheer Sylvain up, since we all got together to cheer him up when Lord Lonato...” Ingrid trails off. Ashe nods encouragingly from the middle of the crowd.

I step aside to let them through. “I’m not sure you’ll all fit in there, but you’re welcome to try!”

Sylvain stares. “You really didn’t have to do anything. My brother’s terrible, I’m not exactly upset about—”

“Oh,  _ shut up _ ,” Ingrid snaps, and shoves past him to set up on the floor of his room. 

“Have a good night!” I wave at everyone and slide through the hall.

Manuela’s birthday is coming up. I’ll have to get her flowers or something, she probably likes those. I’m thinking about that while walking back to my room when Sothis decides to speak up.

“How did this mission go in your video game?”

“Miklan tried to use the Lance of Ruin without a crest, and it turned him into a Demonic Beast... Wait, shouldn’t you have all my memories ready to access? You spent all that time sorting them.”

“Enough time has passed that your memories are no longer as sharp as they were when you first arrived in this world,” Sothis explains. “I was hoping asking you might polish them up somehow.”

“Memories don’t work that way. I read it in a book once. Every time you recall something, you change it a little bit, no matter how clearly you think you remember...”

“How can you remember a book you read when you were ten better than a video game you played less than a year ago?” Sothis complains. 

“The early chapters all blend together! I ran through the first five chapters of the game in a week! It’s been five months!”

Sothis judges me silently. We reach my room, and I start boiling the water for tea.

“Seriously, the demonic beasts thing and getting the Lance of Ruin at the end of the quest are the only things I’m sure definitely happen this moon.” I drop some tea leaves into the teapot.

“It must be horrifying, to watch one’s own family turn into a monster,” Sothis says. “No matter how monstrous they might have been before then...” 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I'd write this fic until it stopped being fun. Writing this fic is no longer fun for me.   
> Here's what I've got left. I might come back to this someday in the future, but probably not. Thank you for reading and enjoying it anyway.

Besides Judith, the month is marked by the arrival of Gilbert and Rodrigue. Gilbert in person is very irritating, but I try to be polite to him and I think he approves of me. Rodrigue asks me if I’ve seen Felix, and I say I haven’t.

It feels like the Free Day of Fathers, because Seteth tells me Jeralt’s looking for me.

“He’s at the graveyard behind the monastery,” Sothis tells me, cutting to the chase. “I found your memories of this chapter.” 

“Thank you, Sothis,” I think, and walk over there without bothering every other named character for the intel. The graveyard behind the monastery had always been there, in the shadow of the towering edifices of the monastery itself, but I had no cause to visit it before. I didn’t particularly want to, either. I’m not that goth.

“Hey,” Jeralt says when he sees me. “I wanted to ask you to join me, but I couldn't find you. So here I am. I was thinking we should visit...your mother. She's resting beneath this humble grave...”

I stare at the gravestone. Time has conveniently eroded some of her information, which is weird considering I’ve seen gravestones from the 1600s at the cemetery in my hometown and those are still perfectly legible. 

“What was she like?” I ask. Has Byleth ever asked her father this? I don’t know. I try to put myself in Byleth’s shoes, to imagine what it’s like to have one’s mother die giving birth to you. I mean, my dad was on another continent from me for most of my old life, but that’s not the same as being dead. Although I guess now both of my parents are in another world from me...

That seemed to be the right question, though, as Jeralt tells me about Sitri a bit and gives me The Ring. “One day, I hope you'll give this ring to someone you love as well as I love her.” 

Love, present tense, even years after her death. I can’t imagine ever having something like that. “Thank you, Father.” 

Rhea gives me some herbs to pass on to my students, who appreciate them, and Seteth reminds me to do practice battles with my class next free day, and somewhere in all this running around, I bump into Felix.

“Professor.” He nods. “Thank you for not telling my father where I was.”

I nod in return. “Complicated relationship?”

“Pretty much.” 

I wait for him to elaborate on this. He doesn’t. 

“Now that I have you here, Professor... I was wondering if I could join your class. I’ve heard you’re very skilled with the sword. I want to watch your technique up close.” 

I stare impassively. 

“...and it seems like everyone worth talking to switched to your class already.”

I allow myself a tiny smile. “We’d be happy to have you.”

Manuela’s birthday is at the start of the Verdant Rain Moon, so I do the polite thing and invite her to tea. 

“Got any plans for the evening?” I ask her, pouring a cup of mint tea for each of us.

She smiles ruefully and shakes her head. “Oh, you know, the usual... I might go down to the pub if I really need some company, but I’ve got some wine in my room that’ll bring me more comfort than any man ever could.”

I try not to wince in sympathy at that. 

Dorothea and Ingrid are taking tea at a table behind Manuela. Well, Dorothea is sipping tea and glaring at me over the rim of her porcelain cup. Ingrid is methodically demolishing a whole mountain of pastries without paying us much attention. Dorothea probably invited her out to observe my tea party with Manuela. 

I realize with a stab of regret that I haven’t really spent much time with Dorothea at all. All of the important events seem to revolve around the Blue Lions students, or my house. She’s one of my favorite characters in the game, but I really haven’t taken the time to get to know her in “real life”, as it were. It makes sense that she doesn’t trust me with her favorite mentor. I hope I can make up for it somehow.

But back to Manuela, who’s eyeing her cup like she wishes she could add something else to the tea. 

“Twenty-five is an important milestone,” I try to joke, and it works. She laughs louder than I expected her to.

“I didn’t know you had such a sense of humor, Byleth.”

“I have my moments. But really, are you doing alright?”

Manuela nods. “As alright as I can be, given the man I was seeing most recently said he didn’t want to go out with me again.”

“Make her talk about her relationship problems again,” Sothis demands in my head. I’m rolling my eyes internally, but I let Sothis feed me leading questions about the soap opera that is Manuela’s dating life.

“How about you, Byleth?” she finally asks, twenty minutes and two cups of tea later. “I can’t be the only single sadsack in this monastery.”

“Hey, I might be single, but I’m not sad about it,” I retort. “I’m just busy with teaching and training.”

Manuela tsks. “You young people and your motivation.”

“I thought you were eternally young yourself.”

She raises her index finger. “You got me there.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of eligible bachelorettes of your persuasion around,” Manuela adds after a moment. “Have you met Shamir yet?”

I cough. Shamir was not a bisexual romance option in the game, but I mean, look at her. She has The Vibes. “Not yet. Haven’t really seen her around much.”

Manuela stirs her tea. “Hmm.”

I decide to cut that off quickly. “Please don’t try to set me up with people. Focus on yourself, Professor.”

“If you insist.”

She stands up. “Well, thanks for the treat. Come by the infirmary any time you need... anything.”

“Uh-huh, will do. And uh, happy birthday again.”

“Thank you!”

She waves to Dorothea as she passes. I stop by Dorothea and Ingrid’s table as well. “How’s it going, girls?”

“Fine, thank you,” Ingrid replies, briskly stacking her empty plates on a tray. Dorothea inclines her head in a sort of half-nod. 

I make eye contact with her. “You knew Manuela from before you came to the monastery, right?”

Dorothea’s expression softens slightly. “Right. We were at the Mittelfrank Opera house together. She shined so brightly on the stage... After she retired, I ended up following her lead and enrolling at the academy.” She sighs and looks down at the tabletop. “Ingrid, could you...”

Ingrid picks up the tray. “I’ll just take this back to the kitchen, then. Be back soon.”

Dorothea smiles gratefully at Ingrid, and turns to face me. “For as long as I’ve known Manuela, she’s been... lonely, I suppose. None of her suitors ever seemed to stick for long, and she doesn’t have any close friends as far as I know. 

Dorothea takes a deep breath, and looks away again. “I’m just... I’m glad to see you being kind to Manuela, Professor. She deserves it.”

“Ah. Well.” This seems to be more emotional vulnerability than either of us were prepared to experience today. “Thank you for telling me, Dorothea.”

She grins. “Are you going to ask me to join your class now that we’ve had a little heart-to-heart, Professor?”

I laugh. “Didn’t you just tell me all the reasons you would never transfer away from Professor Manuela?”

“I’m sure there’s something you could do to persuade me.” Dorothea winks, and while it’s a little less annoying/apalling than when Claude and Sylvain do it, I still frown and shake my head. 

“Not appropriate.”

Dorothea rolls her eyes, like I’m the biggest killjoy in the monastery. “Of course, Professor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a vague idea of like actual Byleth waking up and kicking the self-insert character out of her head and back to the real world but literally no desire to actually write that out. Feel free to imagine this ending however you would like.   
> Thanks for reading, again.

**Author's Note:**

> [ tumblr ](cubistemoji.tumblr.com) | [Twitter](twitter.com/mozaikmage)  
> update schedule: probably sooner than anyone would want  
> 10 likes and I'll make Sothis's Playlist a reality  
> edit: [here's the playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Axnj7FWrYtmcJxHqOJ4CX), aka the things that are stuck in my head most frequently. The first two songs are the ones I explicitly referenced in the fic so far and everything else is things I might throw in later if I feel like it  
> I think it's extra fun of me to include songs about things that don't exist in this universe at all for the Contrast and also to confuse Sothis even more perhaps

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [It's Not Game Over Yet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23969347) by [Blossom_Worm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blossom_Worm/pseuds/Blossom_Worm)




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